Torchwood Goes Forth
by cjh4ever
Summary: Eighteen months after CoE, Gwen in running Torchwood. Jack returns to Cardiff and soon both are involved in countering another threat to Earth. The adventure takes the Torchwood team to the USA and other countries before a showdown in Cardiff.
1. Prologue

_For the purposes of this story, the timeline I have chosen to use is: CoE, July 2009; Jack leaves Earth, January 2010; Gwen and Rhys' baby born, April 2010; and this story, October 2010. _

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**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Prologue

The sun was creeping over the horizon when Wayne Brewster drove his battered truck up the trail to the north shore of Birch Creek. He chose a spot shielded from the three out-of-State fishermen who were setting up their gear on the other side of the water down towards the main body of Lake Fork where they had been told they would find the best bass. Wayne lit a cigarette, his fourth of the day, and took a grateful drag sighing as the nicotine hit his bloodstream.

The cigarette was half-smoked and hanging from his lips when Wayne left the cab of the truck and walked along the bank to where he had stashed the boat the day before, well hidden under an overhang among the hydrilla and duckweed which ran rampant on this stretch. Wayne had played here as a boy, had fished all around the creek ever since he was knee-high, and knew every inch of the banks. As a teenager he had used the secret places he knew to hide the many small items he'd stolen from wealthier classmates and now, at the age of thirty two, he used them as a safe haven for the hauls from his various burglaries until he could sell them on. The longest Wayne Brewster had held down a legal job was a month and he'd been sick for a week of that. The proceeds from his petty thefts and the odd job for more accomplished criminals, supplemented by his unemployment cheques, paid the rent on a dilapidated trailer and ensured a steady supply of the cigarettes he craved.

It took twenty minutes for him to unload the truck and transfer the metre high cone and associated paraphernalia to the boat. He was on cigarette number six as he rowed out to Birdwell Island, regretting not being able to use the outboard motor but it was noisy and he'd been told not to draw attention to himself. He landed without anyone seeing him, tying the boat to a stout tree trunk and took the cone to the side of the electrical station that at one time had provided power for the whole area but was now a little used emergency supplement. Two more trips and all the equipment was in place.

Well hidden from both shores, Wayne hunkered down and lit yet another cigarette; he usually got through a pack of twenty before breakfast. He savoured this one, watching the smoke dissipate in the cool morning air. It would be hot soon, was never much else in this part of Texas, and he aimed to be at the Yantis Café before then for pancakes and bacon. With one final drag on his cigarette, he stubbed it out and assembled the cone and heavy duty wires as he'd been shown before hooking it up to the electricity supply from the station. No one ever came out here to check on the place so the drain was unlikely to be detected. With everything in place, Wayne flicked the switch and nodded in satisfaction when the two blue lights came on; it was done.

He ambled back to the boat, reaching into his shirt pocket for the pack of smokes, content to have earnt two hundred bucks for a couple of hours' work. But the boat wasn't where he had left it. Nor was it on the water. Casting around, Wayne double checked and was certain this was where it had been. Cursing, he trudged round the island but the boat was nowhere to be seen. Back at the starting point, he considered what to do. He couldn't swim back to the shore, he wasn't going to chance the alligators, so he was stuck on the island. This wasn't so bad as in a couple of hours more fishermen would be coming out, on shore and in boats, and he would be able to hail one of them for a ride. What mattered more than the wait was that he had left his spare pack of cigarettes in the truck and only had six left. He cursed again and settled down on the ground, his back to a tree trunk and prepared to wait.

Wayne was looking out towards the north shore and missed the gentle movement of the water closer to the island where ripples formed and re-formed in a strange pattern. It wasn't alligators moving underwater but a very different form of life, one which had no reason to be in a Texan lake or even on Earth. Out of the ripples, a large sinuous body emerged and struck at Wayne, pinning him to the tree and biting into his neck, injecting its paralysing venom before the man had time to react. Two more of the creatures emerged from the water and helped drag the helpless but conscious Wayne Brewster through the duckweed and under the water.

A couple of hours later at the Yantis Café, Carmen Ruiz and her fellow waitress decided Wayne Brewster must have been 'on a job' the night before, the only reason they knew why he had ever missed his daily pancake fix.

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_Next time, we get to meet Torchwood ..._


	2. Chapter 1

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter One

Gwen Cooper was happy as she drove along Cardiff's streets. The sun was shining, the traffic was light and her son had slept through the night for the first time. Life didn't get much better than that. A sharp left turn and she was approaching the gates of the headquarters of Torchwood, a sight which still gave her a feeling a pride tinged with amazement. This was all her doing. Her hard work had rebuilt the organisation after the horrors of the previous year when the 456's demand for ten per cent of the world's children had left her as the only team member in Cardiff.

Resolutely pushing this from her mind, she didn't want anything to spoil the day, Gwen slowed and waited as the gates opened, activated by the transponder in her car. She waved at the CCTV camera, knowing that Lois would be watching, and parked in her reserved place closest to the door. (There were quite a few advantages to being the boss but she enjoyed this one the most.) The building was indistinguishable from the other offices and warehouses all around the city which is how Gwen wanted it. Torchwood worked best in the shadows, even in its new role. The days of running after Weevils and responding to Rift alerts at all hours of the day and night were gone, that grunt work was UNIT's responsibility now. Torchwood had a more important role to play.

"Morning, Lois," called Gwen, walking into the large reception. "Beautiful morning."

"Hi, Gwen." Lois Habiba, a pretty dark-skinned woman in her mid-twenties with shoulder length plaited hair, looked up from her computer screen where she was checking emails. "Don't tell me, Daniel said his first word."

Gwen laughed, well aware that she could bore for Wales when it came to tales of her much loved son. "No, better than that. He slept through the night. Put him down at ten last night and he didn't wake until six this morning. Bloody miracle!"

"It had to happen sometime." Lois liked her boss and had worked with her for nearly a year, ever since Gwen had started to rebuild Torchwood. The fact that they were the only women also gave them a special affinity. In the office, however, Lois liked to be businesslike and so turned the conversation onto work matters. "Selwyn wants to see you and you have your usual ten o'clock with the Home Secretary."

"Right." Gwen rolled her eyes. "Let me have the report on the Retalin Converter, she's bound to want to talk about that."

"Will do. And I'll bring some coffee through shortly."

Using her swipe card, Gwen went into the offices behind reception. There were six rooms opening off a short corridor. On her right was the boardroom, large enough to seat a dozen round the heavy wooden table and grand enough to impress visiting politicians. On the left, separated by a dogleg of the corridor, were the three offices used by her team members - though only Selwyn Agnew could regularly be found in his – opposite her own larger room which was next to a spare room used by UNIT and other visiting organisations as needed. A small kitchen and toilets at the end of the corridor completed this part of the building.

At the door to Selwyn's room, Gwen stopped and said, "Morning. Lois says you want me. Give me five minutes to get sorted then come on in."

With a farewell smile, she went on to her office and went through her usual routine – hang up coat, check hair and makeup, take mobile and papers from attaché case and put them on desk, put case on the side, sit down – before checking her calendar for the day. After the Home Secretary, she was free for the rest of the morning. In the afternoon, she was meeting the Welsh Assembly leader for a site visit at Mermaid Quay, still cordoned off after the bomb blast that had destroyed the Hub, before seeing Andy Davidson. Not a busy day and she was confident she'd be able to squeeze in time to meet the vicar, maybe on the way to the Quay.

A shadow fell over her door and she looked up, expecting to see the lanky Selwyn but instead it was Kevin Heggerty. Short, stocky and dark haired and in his early forties he was the complete opposite of his colleague. "I've come across something odd, ma'am. I think you should take a look at it."

"Is it urgent? Only Selwyn wants a word." She had given up trying to get Kevin to stop calling her 'ma'am'. He had been with UNIT too long to drop the habit easily.

"Oh. No, ma'am, I guess it can wait." He stood irresolute, not sure whether to go or stay.

"I'll come and find you when I'm free. Okay?" she prompted, relieved when he took the hint and left.

She spent a few minutes checking the headlines of _The Times_ and _The Guardian_. Lois went through these and other papers in detail as well as websites but Gwen liked to keep abreast of issues herself. She read the short article about more sightings of the Virgin Mary. These had started at Lourdes in France but had spread to Knock, Ireland and Abeche, Chad generating much speculation and divided opinion about the genuineness of the apparitions. Gwen was looking through the inside pages when Selwyn Agnew appeared.

"Is this a good time?" he asked, smiling, as he came into the room.

"Yeah. Take a seat." She put the newspapers aside and watched as he folded his six foot three frame into the chair and blessed the day she had come across this man. He was reliable, thorough in everything he did and with enough charisma to charm even the most antagonistic Government official. As usual he was effortlessly smart in tailored slacks and crisp white shirt with a blue and white striped tie. Most of his salary went on clothes, the Porsche in the car park and his merry-go-round of girlfriends. "So, what have you found?"

"You're there before me. Again."

"No, I just know you, Selwyn. You wouldn't be wanting to see me unless there was something juicy." She gave him her best gap-toothed smile.

He chuckled, proffering a piece of paper across the desk. "I found this on the Ministry of Justice site. Must have escaped their attention when they were sending us the weekly update." His dry tone was ironic.

She looked at the paper. It was on MoJ headed paper and entitled 'Amendment to the Blasphemy Laws'. She scanned the four paragraphs which outlined plans to make it a criminal offence to say anything detrimental about any religion in a public place. The penalty was five years in gaol and compulsory religious re-education.

"They've not told us anything about this?" she asked, glancing up at Selwyn before re-reading the document.

"Nothing. It only came to my attention when the monitoring program found it. I wanted you be to be aware before I took it any further. You'll notice it comes from Benson's office." He pulled a face.

Colin Benson was the junior Minister, appointed nine months before at the tail end of the general reorganisation of the UK Government after Brian Green's ignominious departure. Benson had decided to make a name for himself quickly and was hitching a ride on any bandwagon that was passing. Unfortunately, he was the brother-in-law of Denise Riley, the new Prime Minister, so no one could stop him. Not yet anyway.

"A lot of people would support this," said Gwen, still reading the document. She was sympathetic herself.

"I know. But re-education? Smacks of _1984_ to me. And a five year sentence is over the top."

"Would the Churches support it?"

Since the events with the 456, people had turned to religion in increasing numbers and all Churches had grown in prestige as a result; their influence could not be ignored. The scale of the threat from the 456 and the extent of Governments' collusion in the sacrifice of the children had destroyed the public's already fragile trust in politicians. Religion offered the moral leadership that people craved and that initial reaction had developed into a world-wide movement which had seen all major religions increase their followers four-fold. More people attended religious services now than at any time in the UK's recent history. This had in turn encouraged Church leaders to take a more active role in public affairs and they had an advisory post on the British Cabinet.

Selwyn shrugged. "Hard to say. The Anglican Church in the UK is one of the more moderate so I doubt Archbishop Williams would. But the others? The Muslims and evangelical churches in America, both of which have followers here, most definitely will."

"Umm. Let's play this carefully, it's not really within our remit. Not yet anyway. Make a few discreet enquiries and see what you can find out. If they go down this route, it's bound to mean trouble for the resident aliens." She handed the document back to Selwyn.

He stood ready to leave. "There's just one other thing. Hiram says the US Government is considering a similar suggestion." With a nod he went out, leaving a thoughtful Gwen.

As she had time before her call to the Home Secretary, Gwen let herself through to the large workshop behind the offices. This was protected by iris recognition as well as swipe card as it routinely housed any number of dangerous artefacts as well as state of the art equipment and alien technology. The number and variety of on-going projects depended on what Torchwood was researching at any one time, or what had been referred to them for analysis. This was Kevin's domain and Gwen did not fully understand what he did in here. She recognised this was a major failing in her but despite trying hard she knew she was never going to get any better. It concerned her. Kevin worked more or less alone and was becoming isolated within the team. She was considering bringing in another technician just to keep him company.

She found Kevin sitting at one of his half dozen work stations and paused to study him. He had been with UNIT for twelve years before joining Torchwood and still dressed in Army-style jumpers with leather shoulder pieces and thick trousers over heavy boots. It was appropriate for his work but it did nothing to lessen his boxer's build and appearance that belied the expert technician inside. At the moment he was surrounded by radio and other frequency monitors as well as a mass of other equipment of alien origin, liberated from visiting species or acquired from UNIT. She moved to stand beside him. "Kevin, what was it you wanted?"

He removed his headphones and twirled a dial. "This, ma'am." Over a background of static an intermittent beep, or maybe a ping, could be heard. "It's new."

"What does it mean? Is it the 456?" she asked urgently, a coldness seeping into her belly. She dreaded the thought that they might return.

"No," he shook his head, surprised she would think it. He was happiest when surrounded by technology and like many specialists he was poor at explaining himself. "This is a completely different frequency."

"Good." Gwen relaxed. "So what is it?"

"I don't know. It started a few hours ago."

Gwen waited but he didn't add anything. He exasperated her like this often and she gritted her teeth in frustration. "So what do you think we should do about it?"

This seemed to stump him and he looked at her blankly. "I just thought you should know, ma'am."

"Well, now I do." She took a pace away from the work station. "Have you finished analysing the Amurticz pendant?"

"No. I'm doing this."

"Well get back to the pendant! We need to know how it changed Lieutenant Dacre into a pillar so it doesn't happen to anyone else." She waited until he stood and went to another work station before leaving the room. Kevin was a genius in his own field but he was bloody hard work!

The rest of the morning sped by. She went through the post and emails with Lois, signed off some requisitions and read up on the Retalin Converter before calling the Home Secretary. The discussion went reasonably well and Gwen was satisfied when she put the phone down forty minutes later. Deciding she'd earnt another cup of coffee, she was reaching for the intercom when Lois appeared at her door.

"Gwen, there's a visitor for you." Lois, half-smiling, stepped to one side.

"Hello, Gwen."

Gwen's mouth fell open in shock. Framed in the doorway was a smiling Jack Harkness.

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_Next time, we learn more about Jack as he and Gwen get re-acquainted ..._


	3. Chapter 2

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Two

"Jack!" Gwen was out of her chair and in his arms, hugging him close. "God, you're a sight for sore eyes! Where've you been? What are you doing here?" She drew breath and pulled back. "It is so good to see you."

"You too. Nice office," he continued, looking round the tidy, modern room.

"It's okay. Are you … are you staying?"

"For a while."

He hugged her again, pleased that she was the same Gwen as always. Her friendly and passionate nature had drawn him to her back in 2007 when she had been a policewoman on the beat and even as head of Torchwood she had not lost it. They stood just looking at one another for several minutes. Jack saw a poised and fulfilled woman at ease with herself. Gwen saw a haunted man whose features, while unchanging, were drawn and etched with sadness.

"Lois, can you get us a couple of coffees please?" she said finally.

"Not for me. I don't drink it, not any more." With an effort Jack forced a smile.

"Tea?" asked Lois, pleased to see the man again and not sure why this simple drinks preference had caused Gwen to look so sad. Lois knew the price Jack had paid to defeat the 456 and admired him for it while at the same time wondering how he could have sacrificed his own grandson. She could see the bond between him and Gwen and decided to give them space to get re-acquainted.

"Please." He turned his dazzling smile on her. "Milk, one sugar."

Gwen shut the door behind Lois, pausing a moment before turning to face Jack who was removing his greatcoat revealing the expected dark blue, open-necked shirt, braces and loose trousers. "Let me take that for you," she said, pleased to have something to do to get over the awkward moment. She hung it up and smoothed its creases. "Is this the same one you had in London?"

"Yes. The one Ianto found." He smiled at her startled gaze. "It's all right, Gwen, I can talk about him."

"Right, 'cos you can." She smiled and sat behind the desk. "So, how are you?"

"Good, thanks." He settled in the visitor's chair immediately looking at ease. "Boy or girl?"

"Pardon?"

"Your bump, it's gone. Boy or girl?" He was grinning now, loving it when he wrong-footed her.

"Oh, boy." She beamed at him. "Here." She passed across a framed photograph of Rhys and the baby which sat on her desk. "His name is Daniel and he's six months old and he's gorgeous!"

Jack studied the photograph. It was a good one, taken a month or so earlier. Rhys was sitting in a chair holding the baby who was staring up at his dad as if fascinated by the man. For his part, Rhys was staring back in wonder at the little boy that was his son. It brought back memories for Jack of another small boy and he had to swallow the lump that formed in his throat.

"He's got your colouring," said Jack eventually, glad his voice was under control. He handed back the photograph.

"So far. They change so much at that age." Gwen tried to keep the conversation light. She was saved having to say any more by Lois' return with the drinks. "Thanks, love."

When Lois had departed, Jack and Gwen lapsed into silence as they sipped the drinks. Even after all they had gone through, the shared triumphs, disasters and sorrows of three years' working together, they were finding it hard to think of a topic of conversation that would not bring back unhappy memories. It had been nine months since they had last met, on that cold and dark Welsh hillside when Jack had left Earth to travel the stars once more.

"Tell me, Jack, how long have you been away?"

"Just nine months." He smiled, cradling his mug in both hands which rested on his crossed legs. "No time travel this time."

"Did it help? Going away." She leant forward, wanting to close the distance between them but knowing it was too soon. There was a lot to be explained before they'd be completely at ease with one another.

He thought about this, letting his eyes roam across the notice board on the wall. "Yes and no," he answered finally with a heavy sigh. "I guess it helped. Tell me what you've been up to, other than Daniel, of course." He smiled again and this time it reached his eyes.

"Set up this place." She leant back again, unsure if he would approve of what he had done with the organisation. But as she had been left to do it alone he had no grounds to complain. "It's a bit different from how it used to be. We're co-ordination, investigation and analysis now. UNIT monitor the Rift and deal with the Weevils and other resident aliens. Our role is threefold." She ticked them off on her fingers as she spoke. "First, to monitor all UK Government activity and legislation to ensure it's compatible with the new accords hammered out by the UN and to liaise with other agencies around the world who have a similar function in their own countries. Second, to investigate any alien activity that appears co-ordinated and likely to threaten the UK and Earth's security. And third, to analyse alien artefacts and technology that come our way. We share the last one with UNIT," she admitted, "we just take the most interesting."

"No more Weevil hunts then?"

"No, strictly nine to five now." She matched his grin. "Well, not strictly as my dear husband would tell you!"

"How is Rhys? Does he work here?"

"No. We agreed that, right at the start. He's with Harwoods still but he helps out if we need him which, touch wood," she reached for a wooden pencil pot, "isn't often. He's loving being a dad, of course, and he's a good one." She realised they had strayed back to dangerous ground. "We moved too," she added quickly. "Got a semi in Penarth. Moved in just before Daniel arrived."

"Do you hear anything of Alice?" His voice was level, not betraying the churning emotions he was working hard to control. "She's moved."

"She went to Manchester. I'm not in touch with her, just keep a eye. Make sure she's okay."

"Thank you." He was grateful for this thoughtfulness. "And Ianto's family?"

She smiled again. "I see them pretty regularly. They stayed on the Cromwell and are just as wacky as ever! Rhiannon invested the compensation, didn't let Johnny get his hands on any of it, so they're secure." Jack had insisted that the death benefit go to Ianto's sister and not his mother, knowing that was what he would have wanted. "Andy keeps an eye on them too, makes sure Johnny's little scams don't get out of hand."

"Andy Davidson?"

"Uh huh. He's our official liaison in the local police, works with UNIT too. He's loving it." She drank the last of her coffee and put the mug on her desk. "The Hub's a complete write-off. We weren't able to salvage anything else. All those records lost."

During the past year, Gwen had tried to establish what, if anything, was left of the Torchwood base. A few minor items had survived but the explosion had brought down the roof and destroyed the lower tunnels, burying them in tons of rubble. In order to make the Oval Basin above safe, the Assembly and Gwen had finally agreed that it should be filled in and tons of concrete had been poured into every gap to seal it up. Her visit that afternoon was to survey the work done so far and sign off the plans that would restore the Basin to its former glory.

"You were never able to get to the morgue then? They're all lost?"

"Afraid so. I was able to confirm the power supply was cut off by the explosion. I'm sorry."

"Probably better this way." Both were remembering Gray, Jack's brother, who had been kept in stasis in the morgue after his murderous attack on Cardiff. "You're sure it won't be violated? There are other people there who shouldn't be disturbed." The bodies of past members of Torchwood had been kept there too.

"The Assembly have unofficially designated it a gravesite. They won't be disturbed."

"Good." Jack paused, mentally moving on from the past and thinking of the future. It was gradually getting easier to do as the weeks passed. "Do you still have safe houses around Cardiff? My old home got blown up."

She chuckled, grateful for the lightening of the mood. "We still have some. There's a couple of flats or a house. You're going to be staying a while then?"

"A few weeks at least. Maybe longer. Depends." Jack knew he would find it hard to live in this city again. Every corner he turned held reminders of the many decades he had lived here and in particular of a young Welshman who had stolen his heart. However, running away had not helped so he was prepared to give Cardiff another try. "Used to be a nice apartment in Penarth. Still got that?"

"Think so." She opened a screen on her PC and searched the files. "Two bedroom in Windsor Lofts, that the one?" She angled the screen so he could see it.

"That's it. I see it's empty." He had checked the availability on the display at the side of the images. "Okay if we move in?"

"We?" She stared at him, surprised and a little hurt that he could have forgotten Ianto so soon. "I'm sorry, it's none of my business." She turned back to the screen, amending the records to show she had allocated it to Jack. "Lois has the keys."

"I'll never forget him, Gwen, but I can't grieve forever."

The pain in his voice brought tears to her eyes and she swivelled her chair round and got up, moving to his side, hugging him again. "I know, sweetheart, I know." Pulling back she perched on the desk and wiped at her eyes. "So, who is she? He?"

"His name's Alonso. And we're travelling together, it's nothing too serious. We both need … someone."

"Right." Gwen was still finding it hard to think of Jack with anyone else. He and Ianto had been couple in all but name for almost as long as she had known them. "If you're going to be in Penarth, we'll be neighbours. You'll have to come and have a meal with us. Both of you. See Daniel too, of course."

"Sure, sometime." He stood up, needing to move around. "I'd like to use some of your facilities here. A corner back there," he gestured to the back of the building, "is all we need."

"How did you know about that?" she asked. "Come to that, how did you find us anyway?"

He laughed then, a genuine laugh that had her smiling too. "You really think you can hide from me?"

"No!" She shook her head ruefully. Something occurred to her then and she was surprised she hadn't thought of it before. "Do you want back in, Jack?"

"Don't worry, I'm not after your job." He saw her relax and was pleased it was out in the open. "Right now, I just want a place to … conduct some research. I know you have the facilities I need for that. When I'm done?" he shrugged. "I don't know. But if I do stick around, it won't be like before. If anything, I'd be a freelance again."

"I'd have you back in whatever capacity you want, Jack Harkness. Just say the word."

"Thanks. Really, thank you." It had been a while since he had felt he belonged anywhere and her unqualified acceptance was balm to his soul. "Gonna give me the tour?"

They walked round the building and Jack made appreciative noises when he thought it appropriate. The place was functional but well laid out and with little touches that made it more welcoming than the Hub had ever been. They stopped to talk to Lois, now in her office, and Selwyn before Gwen opened the door into the back, stopping just inside. She was pleased to see Kevin was still where she had left him and led Jack in that direction to introduce him.

"Jack, this is Kevin Heggerty. Kevin, Captain Jack Harkness. He'll be working back here for a while so you'll need to clear a space for him." She looked round again, noticing once more that each surface seemed to be crammed with equipment and abandoned experiments. "God knows where!"

"I'm sure Kevin and I can come to some arrangement," smiled Jack, determined not to cause a fuss. "What are you working on there?" He was standing by the work bench, looking over Kevin's shoulder.

"An Amurticz pendant," explained Kevin. He took it from under the microscope and held it up for closer inspection. "Somehow it turns people into stone."

"That's interesting. How does it do that?" Jack was holding it now, turning it over in his hand.

"That's what he's trying to find out," put in Gwen. "Any ideas?"

"No. Tried a microcellular analysis?" he asked.

The two men went into a detailed discussion of the tests available and Gwen smiled, realising that with Jack around she had someone who knew what Kevin was talking about, could bounce ideas around with him and who could explain it to her. After a few minutes, she decided she wasn't needed any longer; they were getting along fine by themselves.

"Jack, sorry to interrupt. Look, I'll leave you two to it. You know where I am if you want me. I'm out most of this afternoon but Lois will be here."

"Okay, thanks again."

Jack smiled at her and she went back to her office, smiling to herself. Her day was really turning into something special. After another half an hour at her desk and a word with Lois about giving Jack all the necessary clearances and codes he would need, she packed her attaché case and left the office. She was looking forward to sharing her news with Rhys when they met at the church.

At one o'clock Lois, Kevin and Selwyn sat at the Boardroom table eating sandwiches and wraps. They didn't always eat together but today, with Gwen and Jack out, they had a lot to talk about. As members of Torchwood, all three had known of Jack's service to the organisation and his unique nature but only Lois had met him before and that had been in exceptional circumstances.

"He's not what I imagined," said Selwyn, dabbing his chin to catch the mayonnaise that had dripped. "Much more approachable."

"According to Gwen, he can charm the birds off the trees when he wants to," supplied Lois, "but at other times, he's utterly ruthless."

"He must be hard if he could do what he did."

It had been the encounter with the 456 that had brought Selwyn from the safe confines of the Foreign Office into Torchwood and he had studied the records in great detail. He had been examining the ways in which the UK and other Governments had been willing to accede to the alien's demands so he would know what to expect in the future but had become more interested in Jack Harkness and his small team. That handful of people had outwitted the politicians and destroyed the 456. Only they, and specifically Jack, had been willing to pay the ultimate price to protect the children of Earth.

"Was he really blown up?" asked Kevin.

"Into little pieces," replied Selwyn, reaching for the other half of his sandwich. "The few bits they gathered together regrew when he was in custody. I've seen the tapes."

They were silent for a while, considering this. It seemed incredible that the man they had met that morning had once been blown apart. How could he regrow his body? What would it feel like? How did his brain remember everything if it had been blown apart?

"Gwen said we shouldn't mention it to him," said Lois. "The whole 456 thing, I mean. Just treat him like anyone else." She drank some more of her coffee.

"I hope he'll be around for a while. He suggested a new line with the pendant that I hadn't thought of," put in Kevin. "I'm going to get back to it now." With that he got up and shambled off, taking his coffee with him. The others let him go, used to his ways.

"Who's this bloke Jack's gone to get?" asked Selwyn. "Got the impression Gwen didn't know him."

"I think she's a bit wary," replied Lois, leaning back in her chair and cradling her coffee mug. "You know the operative who died in Thames House, Ianto Jones?" Selwyn nodded. "He and Jack were together. Partners. A couple. He lost a lover as well as a grandson." And daughter, she added to herself; it was her job to keep track of Alice Carter.

"And Gwen's not happy he's moved on? Not surprised, I think she's half in love with Jack herself."

"No she's not! She and Rhys are very happy. And they have Daniel." She scowled at her colleague. "Don't talk rot."

He shrugged. More perceptive than Lois he had noticed the way Gwen had looked at Jack and the way she had wanted to stay close to him. But Selwyn was a diplomat and knew when to say nothing. "Have it your way. What's this bloke's name, anyway?"

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_Next chapter, there's more settling in for Jack and Alonso ..._


	4. Chapter 3

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Three

The apartment in Penarth was in a purpose-built block, one of many that had gone up in the past decade to meet the expanding population of Cardiff. It was on two floors with two bedrooms and a bathroom on the top floor and an open plan kitchen/diner and small living room on the other. It was furnished in the same style as a show house – good looking furniture that was uncomfortable to sit on and small enough to make the flat look bigger than it really was. Jack didn't care. He had never been bothered about his surroundings and if he had been on his own would have kept his few things in the hire car or the base. But while he didn't sleep Alonso did so a bedroom was a necessity.

The two men brought in their possessions – a small holdall for Jack and two large cases for Alonso – and unpacked. Alonso chattered away, interested in the apartment and the facilities. This was his first visit to Earth and he found the amenities amusingly primitive. The bathroom gave him particular cause for hilarity. He was in there turning the taps on and off when Jack entered with his shaving kit.

"Leave those alone. We need to get to the Torchwood base."

"But this is fun. Let's have a bath!" His eyes were shining and Jack was tempted. Alonso had an impish sense of humour and none of the sexual hang-ups of Earth-based humans.

"Not now." He smiled to lessen the rejection. "I want to get the monitoring equipment set up. And you need to meet the Torchwood team. I'll let you drive." He knew the last would be all the incentive Alonso would need.

"Great." He flung his arms round Jack and kissed him. "I'll finish unpacking."

Left alone in the bathroom, Jack set his shaving kit out on the shelf. In the mirror he caught sight of himself and saw he was smiling still. The boy was doing a good job of lifting some of the despair from Jack's soul. Was that The Doctor's plan? Jack wished he knew. By the time he'd gone looking for the Time Lord there had been no trace of him on the space station; he'd vanished as mysteriously as he had appeared. The six weeks since Jack and Alonso had met had reminded the immortal man that life could be fun. They'd hopped freighters and blagged their way onto merchant ships on their way through the galaxies and each experience had given him new memories to set alongside the old. Jack would never forget Ianto and Steven but he was no longer obsessed by grief.

It was gone two o'clock when the two men left the apartment and Alonso drove slowly and carefully through the streets of Cardiff. The Renault Espace was pedestrian when compared with the old SUV but Alonso thought it was great and was very proud when he pulled into the car park in front of the new Torchwood base without having had an accident. It took him three attempts to park inside the white lines but he made it in the end. Neither he nor Jack took any notice of the sign reserving the space for Gwen.

Inside the building, Jack sought out Lois in her office. "Lois, this is Alonso. Can you sort him out with clearances and such?"

"Of course." She left her work and opened a screen on the PC. "I'll just need some details. Full name?" She looked up at the youthful man with Jack, smiling at his open and honest appearance.

"Alonso Frame," said the young man.

"Occupation?"

"Merchant seaman, unemployed." He pulled a face.

"Okay. Ah, date and place of birth?"

"13 April 1984, Sto." He and Jack had worked out his date of birth in Earth chronology but not considered anyone would ask for where he had been born; 'Sto' had slipped out inadvertently. To Jack's amusement he saw Lois enter 'Stow-on-the-Wold' in the relevant box.

"That's a lovely place, had a holiday near there once," she said thinking of the Cotswold town. Alonso looked at Jack who shrugged. "Right your operative number is 4/74-623." She reached to her printer. "Here's your ID and the swipe card for this building. This is a list of door codes – memorise them then give it back to me. And now," she stood up, "come with me and I'll get your iris scanned."

The three of them walked to the door of the workshop, as Jack had learnt the back of the building was called, stopping to introduce Alonso to Selwyn on the way. When the security measures had been sorted out, Lois returned to her desk and the two men went into the workshop.

Kevin had his head down, working on the pendant, so Jack left him alone and quickly showed Alonso the layout. The door through which they had entered was right of centre and looking into the room on the far left hand side were showers, toilets and a small first aid room. Along part of the back wall was an enclosed and sealed glass-walled room for dirty or dangerous experiments and next to it a walk-in safe used as a combined armoury and secure storage area. In the remaining space were eight numbered workstations interspersed with racks of equipment and artefacts. Jack had selected work station four at the back of the building near the emergency exit; old habits died hard, he liked a handy escape route. The two men cleared the top of two desks, set them back to back, and went scavenging for the equipment they needed. Half an hour later, Alonso was setting up the megaheim-counter. In order to join the merchant fleet he had undergone extensive technical training and was proving very useful to Jack in his current, self-imposed, quest.

With Alonso occupied, Jack wandered round the room looking at the various projects underway and ended up at workstation two where Gwen had found Kevin earlier in the day. He smiled at the collection of old fashioned radio transceivers, ultra modern digital frequency monitors and alien technologies, remembering the same mish-mash of equipment in the Hub. The signal caught his attention and he stood for twenty minutes listening to it before calling, "Kevin, what do you know about this?"

"That, Captain? It's new, not sure what it is." Kevin had swung round in his chair and was looking at Jack.

"How new?"

"A few hours. I jotted down the time." He got up and joined Jack, searching through the clutter to find a notepad. "It started at seven nineteen last night. Do you know what it is?"

"Not precisely, no. But I think it's important."

"I thought it was too but Gwen said to leave it and concentrate on the pendant."

There was no rancour or hurt in his voice. He was happy to do whatever anyone told him, his pleasure came from examining the alien artefacts and technology that came his way. He was content for others to decide what he should do at any one time and moved from one project to another as directed. It meant that it took a long time before they were completed but that too was someone else's problem.

"How you getting on with that?"

"Oh, nearly solved it, I think." Kevin's face lit up. "You were right about the peri circuit."

"Good." He thought for a moment, unimpressed with the way Gwen had organised this part of her responsibilities. Kevin was gifted but unfocussed, drifting from one project to another without any sense of urgency. By divorcing Torchwood from the day to day realities of dealing with aliens, he and the others had little personal knowledge of the relevance of their work, seeing it as intellectual rather than affecting people's lives. "But this is more urgent. Leave the pendant and work on this. Try and find out its origin and anything else you can about it, particularly the time between these stronger pulses."

"I'm not sure, Captain. Gwen was very clear about me working on the pendant."

"Do you know why?"

Kevin thought about this for a moment or two. "Probably has to do with Lieutenant Dacre."

"Who's he?"

"The man it turned into stone. Do you want to see?" Kevin led Jack to the first aid room. "This is him."

Inside the room was a statue of a man, or what appeared to be a statue. Looking more closely Jack realised it was a petrified man, in both senses of the word. This man had been turned to stone but was still alive and the fear coming from him was evident to someone with even Jack's limited psychic abilities.

"How long's he been like this?" asked Jack, amazed that he had been left alone. While Gwen was pushing Kevin, she had not told him why nor got him the help he needed.

"Couple of days."

No wonder the poor guy's scared stiff, thought Jack. He felt his temper rising but resolutely suppressed it; it wasn't Kevin he was angry with. "Lieutenant Dacre, I don't know if you can hear me but we are working on the problem and we'll have you back to normal as soon as we can." He patted the statue's shoulder. "Kevin, come on, we have work to do."

At four fifty, Gwen drove through the gates. She was still in a good mood. The vicar had been helpful and Daniel's baptism date was now confirmed. It would be a small affair and she was looking forward to organising it. She and Rhys had managed a sandwich afterwards and, as she had expected, he had been amazed at her news of Jack's return and keen to meet him again. The meeting with Carwyn Jones, First Minister for Wales, had also gone well. They had toured Mermaid Quay and the work that had been done there. In the nearby Assembly building, they'd met with contractors and seen the radar images which confirmed all the underground spaces had been filled in sufficiently for both the security of what was still down there and the people walking on top of it. Work on repaving the Oval Basin was given the go-ahead.

Her next meeting, with Andy Davidson, was a pleasure as always. He had an office in Police HQ to go along with his new job and rank of sergeant. Over coffee, they chatted about various issues and Gwen had been regaled with details of his latest Weevil hunt; he went out with UNIT as often as he could. It made Gwen nostalgic for those times when she'd been the one charging about Cardiff until she remembered the injuries that could result and thought of Daniel; she was better off behind a desk. She told Andy of Jack's return but on the understanding that he would keep it quiet. There was no knowing how UNIT would react and she intended to tread carefully for now.

Gwen's mood soured when she saw a strange vehicle parked in her space. There was plenty of room elsewhere in the car park but that didn't help, just irritated her all the more. Was it so hard for people to keep that one space free? She swept into the building, past the empty reception and into the offices. She dumped her case and jacket and looked around but all the other offices were empty. Entering the workshop she finally found her team. Lois was sitting on a desk with her feet on a chair with Selwyn standing beside her, both had mugs in their hand. Kevin was sitting at a nearby workstation, the one where she had seen him first thing that morning, playing with the radio receivers. Her irritation boiled over and the innocent technician got the full blast.

"Kevin, I thought I told you to leave that alone!" she shouted, her voice cutting across the others' conversation, the first indication they had that she was back.

"Ma'am?" he stuttered, alarmed and surprised by her vehemence. Normally when she spoke with him she was polite even if exasperated. "The Captain said - "

He was saved having to continue for at that moment two figures emerged from the showers and Gwen's attention was drawn to them. She registered the young man with the large ears carrying a bundle of clothes in his arms but before she could ask who he was her attention was taken by the naked man beside him. This latter, on seeing Gwen and beyond her Lois, smartly whipped the UNIT cap from the other man's clutches and used it to protect his modesty.

"Well that's one use for a UNIT cap I haven't seen in a while," joked Jack, strolling out of the showers behind the other two.

"What the fuck is going on?" Gwen stormed. "Who are the hell are they? And what were you doing in there?"

"The guy with the impressive six-pack and strategically placed cap is Callum Dacre. The cute one with the winning smile is Alonso Frame. As to what we were doing in there," he paused, "I'd like to say it was an orgy but actually we were helping Callum wash off the dust and grime. Being turned to stone is a messy business. Not like salt. Now pillars of salt, no residue. Stone, absolutely loads." Jack beamed at Gwen, aware she was angry but not taking any notice.

Gwen glared at Jack, at the two men standing with him and then round at her team. She felt foolish and she didn't know why. She had been out of the office for just a few hours and everything had changed. She had so many questions. What were Lois and Selwyn doing in here? They hardly ever came into the workshop and certainly never lingered to drink coffee. Why was Kevin working on a project she had told him to leave alone? He didn't usually disobey her. What was Jack doing with a boy who looked about twelve years old? Ianto had looked young beside Jack but this one, this Alonso, looked like an infant in comparison. And last but by no means least, what was a man she had considered dead doing walking around? In the nude at that.

It was Jack's fault, she decided. Back just a few hours and he had turned her world upside down. She should have expected it, it had happened before when he'd got back from his jaunt with The Doctor. "Jack, my office. Now!" She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Jack sighed heavily. "Al, help this young man get dressed. But keep your hands to yourself!" He frowned at his companion in mock warning and was rewarded with a grin. "Lois, you'd better contact the Lieutenant's commanding officer and give him the good news. I expect they'll want to come and collect him. Tell them he looks okay but to arrange a medical anyway. Selwyn …" Jack stopped, not knowing what the man should be doing.

"I'll stay here, I think," he replied, smiling. "Avoid the flak that's coming your way."

"That's a point," added Lois, about to go to her office. "I think I'll ring from in here." She headed for a workstation.

"Cowards," retorted Jack, watching the pert arse of Callum Dacre disappear into the first aid room.

"Just don't have your ability to survive anything," retorted Selwyn.

Jack grinned at him, beginning to warm to the smartly dressed young man who had reminded him too much of a civil servant to endear himself before. "Good sense of self-preservation. I like that. Wish me luck."

With that parting shot, Jack left the workshop and crossed the short corridor to Gwen's office. The door was open and as he approached he saw her standing behind the desk, back to him and arms crossed as she stared out of the window. Her back was rigid with suppressed anger, a stance he had seen many times before. He entered the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

"You wanted to see me, Gwen."

* * *

_Next time, Gwen and Jack have words ..._


	5. Chapter 4

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Four

"Seven and half hours, Jack. Seven and a half hours. That's how long it's taken you to turn everything upside down." Gwen continued to stare out of the window. Her voice was calm but only because she was keeping firm hold of her temper. It was there, boiling just below the surface, but she was determined not to lose her cool again; she'd already embarrassed herself enough.

"I'm sorry. Want me to go?" He stood inside the office leaning on the closed door.

Turning to face him she took in his casual stance and knew he was relaxed and at ease while she felt like throwing something, preferably at him. "What happened in there?" she demanded.

"Well, you came in and shouted a lot."

Her fists came down on the desk with a thud and she glared at him. "Enough of your stupid jokes, Jack! I am so close to killing you right now. And doing it again and again until I feel better!"

He pushed himself upright and thrust his hands into his pockets. "Good things happened. Kevin sorted out how the amulet worked, which he could have done long ago if he'd known why it was important. Why didn't you tell him Dacre was alive?" He took a step towards the desk, his facade of insouciance forgotten.

"I didn't know." She was speaking through clenched teeth.

"Then why did you have him in your sick bay? Why were you pushing Kevin to work on the amulet?" He was standing immediately in front of the desk and put both his hands on the desk, mirroring her stance. "You've stopped trusting your instincts, Gwen."

"It's different now."

"No, it's not. You're the one who's different! Yes, you've got a family and you want to spend time with them. But this nine to five, backroom Torchwood is not doing its job. Kevin is unsupervised and forgotten, jumping around from pillar to post with no sense of purpose. And that's down to you, Gwen." He had straightened up and was pointing a finger at her. "Dacre was left, buried alive in stone for days, scared to death – and believe me, I know what's that like! – because you've lost the plot!"

"How dare you!" She was livid now. "You bugger off and leave me, what was I supposed to do? I'm on my own, in case you've forgotten. All my friends are dead! Or swanning around the Universe! Well, I stayed and I did my best. I did what you trained me to do and forgive me if that's not good enough!"

"Don't lay this at my door, Gwen Cooper! I've been there, done that, got the T-shirt! I didn't shirk my responsibilities in 2000 when I was left in charge. I knuckled down and got on with it. Lost friends? Hah! When you get close to the number I've lost maybe I'll take that comment seriously." He was breathing hard, having lost his temper. "And since when did I ever tell you Torchwood was about pushing paper? It's getting out there, on the streets. It's chasing Weevils and responding to the Rift because without that, without seeing what damage is caused out there, how are these people," he waved an arm to encompass the building, "ever going to know what they're guarding against?"

"I am not losing anyone else!"

He took a deep breath at this and paused, looking at her with understanding. "That's where we differ. Because I believe," he said quietly, "that in this job you have to be willing to risk everything."

"Easy to say when it's not your own life you're risking!" The minute the words were out, Gwen realised she had gone too far. His face, which had been full of passion, froze and he took a step backwards as if he had been punched in the gut. She couldn't believe what she had said. This man had lost so many friends, lovers and family members and every loss was a grief he would carry with him until the end of his unnatural life. Yet he kept coming back for more. "Jack, I'm sorry." She reached a hand to him but let it fall.

The sound of her mobile was loud in the stillness. She scrabbled in her case for it, relieved to have a reason to look away. The display showed it was Rhys and she stabbed at the button.

Jack stood watching her, barely listening to her end of a conversation that obviously concerned arrangements to collect the baby from the child minder. He was replaying their argument and wondering how he had missed the signs, today and back on the hillside months before. Gwen resented him leaving, resented being the one left behind. Yet she had everything he so badly wanted. A normal life. A partner whom she loved and who loved her. A child. He had never had that for long enough, never would, because over a century ago a friend had tried to help and instead cursed him. He had left Gwen behind so she could enjoy all that he craved. He sank into a chair and buried his head in his hands.

Gwen put the mobile on the desk and sat in her chair, looking across the desk at Jack. Through the thin walls she heard Selwyn and Lois and recognised the sounds; they were packing up to go home. Kevin would be doing the same. It was one of her proudest boasts that her people did not work the crazy hours of previous Torchwood teams. She wasn't so proud of it now. Shared dangers and, she admitted, wonders had bound her to Owen, Toshiko and Ianto in ways that her current team would never know. Even in the worst of times they had had a purpose and known why they were putting their lives on the line every day. Had accepted the risks as a necessary balance to the thrill of the job. And it had been a great job, the best. Suzie Costello had been the first to say so, then Owen during their short affair and Toshiko had included it in her valedictory message to them all. Even Ianto had indicated as much during the time they'd spent trapped by the Daleks. Jack had a point. The current setup, her Torchwood, had none of that passion and she couldn't see any of her team looking back on their time here with the same joy her three former colleagues had shown.

"I didn't mean that, Jack," she said finally. "I'm sorry."

Still with his head in his hands, his voice muffled in consequence, Jack spoke. "For the past fifteen months and four days I have been running away. Running from Alice, from Rhiannon, from Torchwood and from you. I have tried to forget you all. But booze doesn't work and every new drug I try just makes me sick." He raised his head and looked at her. "So I can't criticise the choices you've made, the decisions you've taken. That's not my place. You're right, I ran away. I'm sorry I left you behind but you have a life here, something I can never have. And I envy you that so much. But I'm here now - and believe me it took all my courage to come back – and I want to help."

"I know. You wouldn't be Jack Harkness if you didn't," she responded, smiling wryly and blinking back the threatening tears. "Why are you here? You never said."

He shrugged slightly and sat back in the chair. "The drugs. I tried them all but one of them was different, tasted familiar. So I analysed it and found crestinoni. It's a tiny but vital element only found in Earth's stratosphere, won't be identified for another century or so."

"Someone's taking it?" Gwen was leaning forward, forearms resting on her desk. "What effect will that have?"

"They must be getting it somehow. Don't know who or how. I was tracking it back from the other end, the distributors, but the trail went cold. I decided to come to the source and see if I could find it from this end. As to the effect … When the concentration falls low enough, the ozone layer will collapse and Earth will be flooded with UV radiation."

"Sounds bad."

He smiled at her understatement. "You'd die with a great tan." Jack paused, watching her and gauging her reaction. "Heard any whispers about this?"

"No, no we haven't." It shook her to realise that the organisation she had set up and the links she had forged with others around the world had not identified this threat to the future of the human race. "I can check if anyone else has. The Network's good for that."

"Hold off for now, let me check a few things first." He hesitated but then went on, "And don't shout at me, but you have all the equipment you need back there in your workshop to find out for yourself."

"Rub it in, why don't you?" She rolled her eyes and threw her hands up but managed a smile.

"I'm not trying to do that, Gwen, believe me. But tech was never your strong suit and, well, frankly it shows. No one should be left to work alone like Kevin is; even Tosh needed someone to focus and push her. I don't think you ever understood that side of things."

"I didn't. Don't. I admit it. I knew something was wrong with the setup but I've not known how to put it right. My plan was to bring someone else in to work with Kevin, a better communicator who can explain things to the rest of us, me in particular, in words we can understand." She grinned. "Like 'dying with a tan'."

"Sounds like a good idea because I think you may have another problem. That signal Kevin found, I've seen something similar before. I think it's a countdown."

"To what?" Her eyes were wide with shock and she was tense once more.

"That's the question."

A tap on the door announced the arrival of Lois. She had delayed interrupting until the shouting had died down but now needed to speak to her boss. "Sorry to bother you, Gwen, but I thought you'd want to know Colonel Burns has arrived. He's here to collect Lieutenant Dacre and asked to see you."

"Okay, I'll be there." Gwen stood up. "If you want to keep out of the way, Jack, you can stay in here."

"Oh, I expect word will be getting round pretty soon. May as well show my face."

They went out and found Colonel Burns and a couple of aides in the boardroom with Lieutenant Dacre, the whole Torchwood team and Alonso. The UNIT commander was delighted at the recovery of his man and effusive with his praise. His delight turned to astonishment when introduced to Jack and Gwen could see him calculating how to pass on this snippet of information. Burns did not stop long, fifteen minutes later he and his men were heading out of the front door and took their leave of Gwen. Before he left, Callum Dacre took a moment for a few words with Jack.

"Thank you, Captain. Hearing your words was just … after so long I'd thought … " He couldn't find the words to express his gratitude.

"Glad to be of help," responded Jack, putting an arm around the other man's shoulders. "Now, best not keep the Colonel waiting." He gently steered him towards the van.

Gwen waited until the gates closed behind the UNIT convoy before turning to Jack. "I assume that's yours," she said, pointing to the Espace.

"The hire company's," admitted Jack. "Not the SUV but it gets us about. Why?"

"It's in my space." She turned to go back into the building. "Don't park there again."

"You have a space? I never had a space."

"You'd never have used it if you had!"

Inside the building, Gwen was gratified to see that, contrary to her earlier expectations, her team had not been packing up to leave and were quite content to stick around for a meeting. She gave them ten minutes to put on hold any social engagements they had for the evening and get some drinks together, texted Rhys to say she'd be late and then joined Jack in the workshop. He and Alonso were at their workstation.

"We haven't been introduced," she said to Alonso, sticking out her hand. "Gwen Cooper."

Alonso looked at her hand and belatedly realised he was supposed to shake it. The information on Earth's culture he had received at school and later during seamen's training had been wildly inaccurate and he had made mistakes in the few hours he had been on the planet, even with Jack's help. Not that Jack had helped a lot, he seemed to find it amusing to see Alonso flounder before stepping in to smooth things over. "Alonso Frame. I've heard a lot about you." He shared a glance and conspiratorial smile with Jack.

"Huh, don't believe everything this man tells you." She nodded towards Jack, not taking her gaze from Alonso, sizing him up. "Tell me about yourself."

"It's okay, Al, you can tell her the truth," put in Jack. He was perched on the desk watching the two of them.

"Merchant seaman, first class. I was midshipman on the _Titanic_, one of the few to survive," he said proudly, standing straighter. "My next ship was holed in the Mixlidian Cluster and I was paid off. That's where I met the Captain and we've been travelling together ever since."

"The _Titanic_?" queried Gwen. "I thought you said you'd not been time travelling?" she accused Jack.

"Not that _Titanic_. The one from Christmas, couple of years ago," said Jack easily.

"The one that nearly flattened Buckingham Palace?" Gwen had turned back to Alonso.

"Would have done more than that," the boy said, "if The Doctor hadn't been there." Unconsciously he rubbed his side where had been shot; the wound still ached in cold weather even though it was completely healed.

"You're an alien." She stared at him, seeing a human man – or boy, he looked so young – and wondering yet again at the number of aliens who were indistinguishable from humans. It made her almost glad the 456 had been so very different.

"He's from Sto. S. T. O," said Jack, spelling it out. "A planet in the Tadpole Galaxy but probably better to keep that under your hat for now. Physically he's human." He looked over at the door where Lois and Selwyn had just appeared. "Time for your meeting."

The six of them gathered round Kevin at the workstation where he had discovered the signal. Gwen pulled over a chair and sat beside Kevin, Lois sat at a nearby desk with Selwyn perched on the edge of it while Jack and Alonso stood close by. Each had mugs of hot beverages in their hands and sipped them from time to time.

"Okay," began Gwen, "let's start. Kevin has found a signal or something that he and Jack believe is important. Possibly a countdown. Before we go any further, I want you all to be aware of what's going on. We may need to give this top priority so listen up. Lois, keep a note of the main points so we don't forget anything. Now, Kevin, tell us about the signal and remember three of us are rubbish at this stuff so make it simple." She smiled at him encouragingly.

"Yes, ma'am." Kevin took a moment to collect his thoughts then spoke. "The UN accords require every country to monitor radio and other frequencies for anything alien. This station does that." He patted the array of equipment in front of him. "It's working twenty four hours a day and records all it finds, sending me an alert if there's anything new. Overnight it found something, an harmonic resonance signal oscillating at a frequency rarely used on Earth, at 7.19 our time. Stronger pulses occur from time to time. It's unusual which is why I came to tell you, ma'am."

"So you did, and I'm sorry I didn't take it more seriously." She smiled at him, pleased with the clarity of his explanation so far. Maybe there was hope for him yet. "Have there been any more of these pulses?"

"Yes. The interval between them varies from the initial one hour and fifty three minutes to three hours and twenty four minutes. This is what they sound like." He tapped at the keyboard of the open laptop and shortly an electronic beep was heard against a background of static.

"What are they?" asked Selwyn. "Is it the 456?" The rest of them looked alarmed and Gwen automatically looked at Jack hoping for, and finding, reassurance in his expression. Kevin may have told her it wasn't but she trusted Jack a heck of a lot more than she trusted her own technician.

"It's a totally different frequency and nothing like the last communications from them," said Kevin, reassuring them all until he added, "but they could have changed that."

"That's not very likely," put in Jack immediately. "We can't discount it at the moment, not until we find out who is sending it, but this new signal is different in two major respects. First, it's originating on Earth and second, it was over forty years between the 456's visits. I think we can safely say they have a long way to travel and can't have got back here so soon."

"So if it's not the 456," said Lois slowly, "who is it?" She gazed round at them but no one had an answer.

* * *

_What can the signal be?_


	6. Interlude 1

_Sorry for the slight delay in posting, I was unable to sign into my FF account. All back to normal now._

* * *

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Interlude One

He raised the cup with both hands and held it above his head, showing it to the three men gathered with him. His prayers grew in volume, his eyes fixed on the cup in adoration and submission, blocking out the surreptitious shuffling as the three kneeling men grew restless. They were always impatient at this point of the ceremony, wanting to get through the 'mumbo jumbo', eager to share the woman who was lying naked on the altar. He made the prayers extra long, slipping in a few additional verses without them noticing, to make them wait longer. They may not listen now but when they understood what was going to happen they would hang on his every word.

Lowering his arms, Ilie brought the cup to the lips of the three men who drank greedily, slurping the wine and splashing it over their already dirty robes. Ilie drank the remaining wine, a couple of mouthfuls, and replaced the cup on its pedestal. It was battered and tarnished and the only part of the regalia to remain in his possession, the rest having been lost over the centuries since The Lady had ascended into the heavens. His ancestors, hereditary priests of The Lady, had been as poor at looking after the staff and crown as in remembering and passing on the details of the ceremony; Ilie's own father had barely remembered the creed and the boy had had to ask his grandfather for guidance.

"Master, it must be time now," whined Dimitri pawing at Ilie's robe.

"Very well."

Ilie caressed the cup once more then turned to the woman. She was lying still, the drug she had consumed powerful enough to keep her unconscious until these men had had their way with her. They would have preferred her to be more lively – used to beating their wives and girlfriends to enhance their own sexual release – but Ilie forbade it. He had never been sure that this defiling of an innocent was a fitting way to worship The Lady but it had become part of the ceremony and his followers would not stay with him long without it. He drew the sacred designs on the woman's body with a felt tip pen - it had been blood in the old days but Ilie refused to maim unnecessarily – and then anointed her with holy oil.

"Holy Lady, we prepare this body in your name to receive the life-giving essences of these your followers. Show them your mercy and grant them satisfaction and pleasure."

With a final genuflection, Ilie stepped back and gestured the men forward. Dimitri was first, as always, reaching to the woman and half-carrying, half-dragging her onto the stone floor. The others were not far behind him and the three men were soon handling every part of her, fingers penetrating into orifices prior to more intimate contact. Ilie watched for a minute or two then turned away, entering the front of the two room shack that was his home and church. The ply-wood door did not deaden the noise of the three men's lust but closing it meant Ilie did not have to watch. He would give them an hour with her then bring the ceremony to a close.

Throwing his robe onto the narrow single bed, Ilie sat at the rickety table and opened his laptop - incongruous in such mean surroundings - going immediately to his email account. There was one message waiting him and he opened it eagerly.

'_Operation successful. Communication broadcasting on agreed wavelength. No loose ends. Praise The Lady. OM.' _

"Good, good," muttered Ilie as he opened the attachment to reveal a link to the Rains County Leader's on-line site. He scrolled down a little until a headline caught his eye.

'_LOCAL MAN DROWNS_

'_The body of Wayne Brewster, 32, of Yantis was found in Lake Fork late yesterday. He was floating face down close to the south shore of Birch Creek when James Huxtable, 63, of Iowa saw him and alerted the authorities. "It was quite a shock," said Huxtable, a keen fisherman on his third visit to the Lake. "I never expected to find something like this." _

'_Sheriff Billy Wansley formally identified the body. "Wayne was born and raised in Yantis and everyone round here knew him. We believe he went out to fish this morning and fell from his boat." The boat was discovered later, drifting further down the creek. "There are no signs of foul play and we are treating this as an unfortunate accident." _

'_Brewster was unmarried and lived alone in Bevill Town, Yantis. He was unemployed. Neighbour Ron Podrick, 73, said, "Wayne liked to fish, knew all the creeks round about. Practically grew up on the lake. Never thought he'd end up drowning." _

'_The inquest will be held next week.'_

Sitting back, Ilie let out a sigh of satisfaction. The first part of the plan was in place. The Lady was still remembered and worshipped in small and isolated pockets around the world and he had recruited some of his fellow priests to put the plan into practice leaving them to hire operatives to place the cones. Disposable operatives. No one outside the priesthood could be allowed to survive or the plan would be put in jeopardy.

And only Ilie knew the details of the whole plan, revealed to him by The Lady herself. Not long now, just a few more days. He hugged himself in anticipation and giggled.

* * *

_This is a good place to thank Unidentified99 for allowing me to borrow her home town, Yantis, for this story and for providing me with lots of information and photographs so I could get it right. Thanks, Rachel! Next chapter takes us back to Cardiff and will be coming soon (FF permitting) - Jay._


	7. Chapter 5

_We're back in Cardiff ..._

* * *

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Five

"Jack, you said you'd come across something like this before. What was that all about?" prompted Gwen. The others had fallen silent after Lois' innocent-seeming question. The 456 had terrorised and frightened Earth's inhabitants, could this signal herald something as bad? Or worse?

"I was on Raxacoricofallapatorius at the time, the Slitheen homeworld. They were using a ring of emitters to create a sonic barrier around their nurseries. As the terrain is atrocious this was the only way they could synchronise the sonics." He looked round at the team and smiled. "Entirely peaceful and this could be too so don't get uptight about it. Everything out there is not trying to kill you." He was pleased when they relaxed; no point having them spooked at this stage. "First things first, let's trace the source of this signal and that should tell us who's sending it and why."

"Could it be natural?" asked Alonso, intrigued by the puzzle. He had the nagging feeling that he'd also seen something similar but couldn't think where.

"That's possible," replied Kevin, "there are a number of phenomena that could have caused it though the Captain says they're not very likely. I've been going through them and eliminated half already."

"That's good," encouraged Gwen. "How do we trace it?"

"Triangulation, ma'am. We take readings from different locations and where they intersect is the source."

"It's coming from a fair distance, that's why we're picking up so much static," put in Jack. "Any ideas, Kevin?"

"Probably North America. Jean-Paul isn't receiving it."

Gwen knew that it had been too good to last, that Kevin would lapse back into obscure technobabble or isolated statements that made no sense whatsoever. She bit back a sigh and asked the obvious question. "Who's Jean-Paul?"

"Oh, he works for DPSD just outside Marseilles. If he's not receiving, it has to be coming to us from the west."

"It was a good idea to get confirmation, Kevin," said Gwen calmly, "but next time check with me or Selwyn before you do. Okay?" He nodded, not understanding why but happy to go along with the instruction.

"Are we keeping this to ourselves?" asked Selwyn. His role within Torchwood was to liaise with the other agencies around the world as well as monitor the UK Government's activities. All information was supposed to be shared equally and while he had been a diplomat long enough to know that this didn't always happen, he still preferred to be open.

After a quick glance at Jack, Gwen said, "We don't know what this is, frankly, so why make ourselves look stupid by alarming everyone for what may be nothing. For now, we'll just ask the relevant countries if they picked up the signal. Who should we approach?"

The discussion continued for ten minutes at the end of which they'd agreed to contact Canada, the USA and Mexico. All three countries had been helpful in the past and could be relied upon to be discreet. Selwyn went off to draft suitable requests – to be checked by Gwen – which would be sent immediately in view of the time difference with the UK; replies should be in by morning. Lois was given the task of checking the archives, those records that had survived on the servers, for anything similar and Kevin continued to eliminate natural causes of the signal. With nothing else to do, Alonso drifted back to his workstation to work on the megaheim-counter which would scan the atmosphere for traces of crestinoni.

Jack stood to one side with Gwen, the two of them still a bit wary around one another after their disagreement. But they knew one another too well, and had been through too much together, to bear grudges and neither was prone to sulking.

"Soon as we get the emails off, I'm heading home." It was gone six now and she wanted some time with her family. "Want to come and meet Rhys and Daniel?" He did not reply so she went on, "You don't have to but Rhys would like to see you again. And he reminded me, over lunch, there were a couple of things came out of the Hub that we thought might be yours. I took them home for safe keeping."

"It's Alonso's first day on Earth, I'm not sure I should leave him," replied Jack eventually. He wasn't sure how he'd react to Gwen's happy home life and Rhys had never been the most tactful of men; Jack didn't need recriminations about his time away.

"Bring him with you."

"I don't know, Gwen."

"Well, you know where we are if you want to come round." Her address had been among the others given to him with the codes and swipe cards. She was hurt but not surprised he did not jump at the invitation: Jack did not like domesticity. "I'd better go and check on Selwyn."

A little before seven o'clock, the Torchwood team were all on their way home. Jack and Alonso stopped at a supermarket for some essentials. The latter was delighted with yet another new experience and his chatter and enthusiasm amused Jack enough to allow him to forget his unease at being back on Earth and specifically in Cardiff. At the apartment, they heated up pizzas and sat eating them in front of the television, another of Earth's novelties that Alonso enjoyed. It reminded Jack of other times but these he relegated to the back of his mind and concentrated on answering his companion's many questions.

Over an hour later and in another part of Penarth, Rhys was washing up the dinner things as Gwen sat with Daniel on the old sofa they'd squeezed into a corner of the kitchen/diner. The baby was gurgling as Gwen played with his toes and made baby talk. Rhys watched the two of them and a great wave of love washed over him; these were the two most important people in his life and he loved them so very much. Even the interference of his and Gwen's mothers – who now had Daniel's upbringing to disagree about – could not tarnish his love for his family. But now Jack was back and Gwen had stayed at work later than at any time since Daniel had been born. Rhys had not said anything to Gwen but he was determined that their family life and her safety were going to be her first priority regardless of what Jack Harkness might want. He'd tell the man so if necessary.

"God, this one is so gorgeous," said Gwen, looking across at her husband. "How did we ever make something this wonderful?"

"I'll show you." He was across the room and kissing her, hands at her breasts, when the front door bell rang. "Who the hell's that?" he demanded.

"Only one way to find out," she said with a smile, kissing him lightly before pushing him on his way. "Probably your bloody mother again!" Brenda had taken to popping in at odd times with something for the baby; at least Gwen's own mother was in Swansea and didn't arrive unannounced. The baby grizzled at being ignored and she picked him up, cuddling him to her. "Shhh, sweetheart, Mummy's here."

Opening the front door, Rhys was not surprised to see the familiar figure of Jack Harkness and yet he was still taken aback. The man had visited their old place no more than half a dozen times in over three years and yet here he was on his first day back on Earth. The two men stared at one another for a moment or two, long enough for Rhys to see the sadness was still in Jack's eyes.

"Do I get to come in?" asked Jack with a smile. He had decided to come now and alone – Alonso was happy watching television and would start playing with the bath taps if he got bored – to get over any awkwardness at meeting Rhys again.

"'Course, come on in, Jack. It's good to see you, mate." Rhys stepped back and ushered him in, taking his greatcoat and hanging it up. They had never been friends, Gwen would always come between them, but they respected one another. "Gwen," he called, leading the way to the kitchen, "it's Jack."

Walking into the room Jack was struck by the domesticity. Gwen and Rhys had only lived here six months but the house was already a home with photographs on the walls and a comfortable untidiness about the place. Ironing was piled on a worktop and baby paraphernalia littered most of the other surfaces. He noted the way Rhys went to Gwen's side, sitting on the arm of the sofa and putting a proprietorial hand on her shoulder. _Does the man really think I'm interested in her? _thought Jack. _Or that I'd be able to wrest her away if I was? _The absurdity of it made him relax as nothing else could.

"Jack, this is Daniel." Gwen stood up and held the baby so Jack could see him. "Wanna hold him?"

"Yes." Surprisingly this was true.

Once assured Jack had a firm hold of Daniel, Gwen relaxed and watched him with interest. He had obviously done this before and she wondered again how many families he had had in his long life, how many babies he had held. There had been Alice, of course. He must have nursed her in the same way he was Daniel. And presumably Steven. But were there others he had loved and lost? She shivered at the thought of losing her own family and leant back against Rhys, pulling his arm round her.

"He likes you," said Rhys. "He normally kicks up a stink when someone new holds him. Screams the bloody house down, he does."

"He does not!" protested Gwen. "My son doesn't scream."

"Oh no! Suppose he's mine then." Rhys grinned, used to the argument. "How about a drink, Jack? We've got beer or wine. Or there's coffee."

"Beer, please."

"Let's go in the other room. Not that's it much tidier than in here," said Gwen, leading the way. "Never seem to get a chance to clear up." She kept an eye on Daniel but he lay contentedly in Jack's arms looking up at him and Jack was handling him like a pro. "Sit yourself down."

"Thanks." Jack settled in a chair, resting the baby on his crossed legs so Daniel was facing him. He looked from the baby to Gwen, who was sitting on the couch opposite, and back again a few times. "He takes after you."

"That's what my mam says." She grimaced. "But Brenda doesn't agree."

"She wouldn't." Jack grinned at the memory of Rhys' mother who he had accused of being a Nostrovite. "Expect they've got plenty of advice for you."

"Tons! Oh thanks, love." She took the glass of wine from Rhys who put a bottle of beer on the table beside Jack and sat by Gwen. "What have you done with Alonso?"

"Left him watching _Desperate Housewives_. He's fascinated." Jack rolled his eyes, never having had time for soaps or much else in the way of television. He expertly put the baby in the crook of his arm and reached for the beer. "Cheers."

"Cheers, mate." Rhys was dying to ask more about Alonso having heard only the basics from Gwen but she had jabbed him in the ribs, her signal he was to say nothing. He tried to think of something else to say but what do you ask someone who's been travelling among the stars. He'd really liked to have asked about that but he was sure it would only earn him another jab in the ribs so stayed quiet.

"You still at Harwoods?" asked Jack, breaking the silence.

"Yeah. It's good. No more space whales, thank God!"

They continued to make conversation. It was a bit stilted but Rhys got started on the long-winded tale of how they had found, bought and moved into the house which covered any awkwardness. Jack kept hold of the baby, drinking in the smell that reminded him of the many others he had held but not of any particular one; he was grateful that Steven had been fair right from the start while Daniel was dark. Gwen told him of their plans for the baptism and invited him to attend while not expecting him to accept.

"Baptism? You got religion, Gwen?" he teased.

"We go most weeks." She was defensive. "Lot of people do now."

"Even Banana! He's in the bloody choir," chortled Rhys.

"I'll go and get those bits we found, before I forget," said Gwen and left the room. She still felt uncomfortable when talking about her decision to attend church but like the majority of the UK she had been drawn to it after the 456. She wasn't a true believer, or at least didn't think she was, but it gave her comfort. The Church had adapted to meet the needs of younger people like her and Rhys and they enjoyed attending the lively services.

Downstairs the conversation had dried up. Rhys sipped his beer and eventually said, "So."

"So," echoed Jack, amused at how ill-at-ease Rhys was even in his own home. "Enjoying fatherhood?"

"It's the best, Jack." Rhys was relieved to have a subject on which he could talk forever. "I love it. Love him. I just hope I can be the father he deserves 'cos he is the best thing that's ever happened to me. After meeting Gwen, of course." He grinned.

"Enjoy every minute, Rhys."

"I intend to. I am!" He sobered a little. "Never told Gwen but, well, it frightens me a bit. I just hope I don't muck it up."

"You won't. Gwen won't let you!"

"Won't let him do what? What have you been saying, Rhys Williams?" Gwen had returned to hear Jack's last comment. "I don't stop you doing anything."

"You're the best wife a man could have," agreed Rhys diplomatically and sharing a look of complete understanding with Jack.

"Just remember that," she scolded. "These are what we found, Jack. They were in the last sweep of the place before it was sealed and I think they came from the office, or maybe your old quarters, that's why we thought they were yours." Gwen held out a bag containing a battered tin box which had been welded shut by the heat of the explosion, two metal discs about the size of saucers and a leather bound book. "Shall I take him?" She reached for her son, anxious to hold him again.

"Sure." He let Daniel go and watched as she possessively checked to make sure he was okay; she was an excellent mother, caring but not over-protective. He looked into the bag and froze, his heart stopping for a moment.

On the sofa, Gwen and Rhys were too busy cooing over Daniel to notice immediately and it was only when Rhys looked up that he saw Jack's stricken face. "Jack, mate, you okay?"

"Jack?" queried Gwen, also looking over at her former boss. "What is it?" She hastily gave the baby to Rhys and moved to Jack's side, kneeling beside him, a hand on his arm. "Tell me."

Jack remained silent, reaching into the bag and withdrawing the book. There were stains on the cover and the spine was broken and scorched but it was unmistakable. He stroked it reverently and opened it slowly with an intake of breath when he saw the inscription on the inside cover. Gwen leaned over and read the words.

"Oh my God, I had no idea." The words swam in front of her suddenly tear-filled eyes: _'This is the diary of Ianto Jones. Read no further.'_ In a different coloured ink and obviously added later was _'This means you, Jack.' _She ran a hand over Jack's arm.

Jack closed the cover and rested a hand on the book. So many memories were associated with this diary: reading it when Ianto had not known; looking over his shoulder as he wrote in it; the events recorded in it. It was the only tangible link he had with the man and yet Jack was unsure if he could ever bring himself to look in it again. He was aware of Gwen beside him and Rhys looking on anxiously as he juggled a suddenly fractious baby.

"Thanks for this," Jack managed eventually, his voice breaking. "And these." He gestured to the box which he recognised as containing photographs of him from the twentieth century and including one or two of Alice and Steven. He hoped they were undamaged. The discs were not important, some trinkets he had picked up when travelling with The Doctor. He carefully put them all back in the bag and reached for his beer, his hand shaking slightly.

"I never opened it," said Gwen, moving to rejoin Rhys and snuggling under his arm. "We found it just after Daniel was born and that was such a hectic time. I'm glad now. It would have been … wrong." She let Daniel suck on her little finger which quietened him.

"I'll keep it safe." Jack finished his beer and stood up. "I'd better get going. I'll see myself out." With that he was out of the room and the front door shut a few moments later.

"What was that about?" demanded Rhys. Gwen told him.

Jack drove fast through the streets of Cardiff. He had not realised where he was headed until he arrived. The place was closed so he parked as close as he could and scaled the gates, dropping down on the other side. He strode along the wide path and then veered off across the grass. The headstone was new since he had been here last and he stood and stared at it as memories and regrets assailed him.

* * *

_Poor Jack, so many memories._


	8. Chapter 6

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Six

Alonso was in bed when Jack returned to the apartment at gone midnight. He lay on his back snoring with his mouth open and a dribble of saliva down the left side of his chin. Not a pretty sight but one that Jack appreciated nonetheless; the boy could be relied upon to amuse. Putting his coat and carrier bag onto the chair, Jack shucked off his clothes letting them fall to the floor and, after visiting the bathroom, slipped into the bed beside the sleeping body. The movement stopped the snoring for a moment and Alonso opened a bleary eye.

"Hey," he muttered, turning into Jack's embrace.

"Hey yourself." Jack wiped the saliva off Alonso's face with a thumb and leant forward for a kiss. He needed to lose himself in someone who was flesh and blood.

The morning was dull and overcast when the two men got up and started getting ready for the day. It was only 6.00 but Jack wanted to get into the base early and see what had happened to the signal overnight. He emerged from the shower to see Alonso with the carrier bag in hand.

"Give me that!" Jack snatched the bag away and checked the contents.

"I just wanted to sit down." Alonso stared at Jack, meeting his gaze without flinching, not in the least intimidated. He had been trained in the Merchant Service and had had too many senior officers try to bully him to be cowed. "I don't pry."

"No. Sorry." With a half-smile, Jack put the bag away in the wardrobe.

Alonso finished dressing in silence and went down to the kitchen. He helped himself to an apple and some juice and sat at the table wondering what had upset Jack. Something had, he had come to know the bleak look in the older man's eyes. They had agreed, shortly after meeting, that neither would probe into the other's background. It was sufficient that they got on and had enough in common to make travelling together enjoyable. Over the subsequent weeks information had been shared in the course of normal conversation and Jack had told a lot of long and involved stories, most of which had some basis in fact, which had helped Alonso understand him a little. Their memories of The Doctor and of planets they had both visited helped forge a bond too. Jack's decision to return to Earth, when the drug peddlers' trail had gone cold, had taken Alonso by surprise. He had worked out that something bad had happened here that had sent Jack travelling but as he – Alonso - wanted to visit the planet that he had so very nearly destroyed he had happily agreed to come.

"Let's stop for breakfast on the way," said Jack, coming into the room. He grabbed the container of juice and poured himself some.

"Okay. What's the baby like?" Alonso was the eldest of a large family and missed his younger brothers and sisters.

"Cute. Looks like Gwen." Jack put the juice back in the fridge but did not clear up anything else. Neither man was bothered about such things, as the pile of dirty clothes on the bedroom floor and the pizza boxes in the living room testified.

Later, when Alonso was tucking into his first full-English breakfast, Jack thought about all that had happened in just one day. He had known it would be hard to come back to Earth, to Cardiff and to Torchwood but he had not expected to be given such a concrete reminder of Ianto as his diary. It must have been in the bunker under the office - Ianto had left it there sometimes - and protected from the blast. But when so much else had been destroyed it was a miracle that it had survived. Jack smiled as he looked at Alonso sitting opposite. The boy was enjoying the meal, with loud noises of appreciation and a dribble of egg yolk down his chin. For the second time in just a few hours, Jack wiped Alonso's face for him.

-ooOoo-

It didn't surprise Gwen to find her parking space filled by the Espace and this time she merely grimaced and parked elsewhere. No doubt Jack was making a point; she was too tired to care. Daniel had decided that sleeping through one night was enough to be going on with and had taken ages to get to sleep and then woken twice. Gwen was exhausted from her disturbed night and yawned as she walked into reception.

"Oh dear, that doesn't look good," said Lois, smiling up at her boss.

"No. Have any replies come in?"

"All but the Mexicans. Selwyn's got them, going through them with Jack and Kevin. They wanted to be ready to brief you when you got in."

"Good. Tell them we'll have a meeting in ten minutes when I've got sorted."

In her office, Gwen checked through the post on her desk and scanned the newspapers. There were more reports of the Mary sightings and of the thousands of pilgrims heading for France, Ireland and Chad; EasyJet was laying on charter flights to all three locations. Some leading members of the Catholic Church were expressing support for the veracity of the sightings while others were hedging their bets. One paper had a photograph supposedly taken at Knock but no matter how hard Gwen looked at it she couldn't make out anything definite. Deciding she had enough to worry about with strange signals and drugs being made out of Earth's atmosphere, she let the paper fall back on the desk and joined the others in the Boardroom.

"Morning, everyone," she said as she entered the room.

She sank into her usual chair at the head of the table, smiling her thanks for the coffee Lois poured her, and looked around. Lois was sitting on Gwen's right, pad ready to take notes; she still preferred using shorthand to electronic pads. Next to Lois was Alonso, currently licking the chocolate off a digestive biscuit and making a mess; so unlike Ianto who had been neat in everything he did. Jack was opposite Gwen at the other end of the table. There was a mass of papers in front of him and Selwyn, who was next to Jack and opposite Alonso. Kevin was between Selwyn and Gwen, tapping at a PDA.

"Who's going to start?" asked Gwen, throwing open the discussion.

Selwyn cleared his throat, glanced at Jack, and spoke. "We've received replies from the FBI and CSIS. USA and Canada," he clarified. "The FIA in Mexico had a problem with one of their monitoring stations but should have something soon. Both the US and Canada have picked up the signal. Jack?"

Jack brought up a map of the US on the plasma screen. "Using the three readings we now have Kevin has narrowed down the source to the US south west. It could be anywhere in this area." He drew a large circle from Nevada and Utah in the north, west to California, south round Arizona and New Mexico and finished by including Texas in the east. "Until we hear from the FIA, we can't be any more specific."

"That's a huge area," pointed out Gwen. She and Rhys had travelled through the American South on Greyhound buses when they were students and she recalled the endless, dusty days spent getting from one town to another.

"Which is why we need the Mexicans." Selwyn shuffled some papers and looked at Gwen. "Hiram sent a personal note, separate to the reply. He wants to know if there's something going on."

"Stall him. Nicely." For Jack and Alonso, she went on, "Hiram Wendover is our main FBI contact. A good man."

"You trust him?" asked Jack. "We may need to get over there and see what's going on."

Gwen glanced at Selwyn, saw his reassuring nod, and said, "Yes, I do. He's always played it straight with us. Most of Europe and North America are okay. I have doubts about Russia and China and maybe Japan, they still like to keep secrets. South America and Africa are mixed but chaotic probably sums them up best. Don't forget, the Network's only been in operation a year."

She was not sure why she felt it necessary to defend the Network, it was not her responsibility. It operated under the auspices of the UN although individual nations found it hard to give up control. Torchwood and indeed the UK's role as a whole would have been minor indeed if it hadn't been for their long association with The Doctor and interaction with the 456. As it was, Gwen was regarded as a senior member of the group and her opinion – and increasingly Selwyn's - was listened to, in formal sessions and behind the scenes. The Network was far from perfect but it was more than Earth had ever had before.

"Kevin, tell everyone what you've been doing," prompted Jack with an encouraging nod.

"Okay. The signal is continuing to broadcast on the same wavelength. There have been four more of the stronger pulses overnight, at irregular intervals again. I've checked all the possible natural causes and eliminated them; the signal's man-made."

"More like alien-made," said Alonso, reaching for another biscuit. "I can't see you people coming up with something like this."

Lois and Selwyn started and stared at Alonso. His use of 'you people' had surprised and alarmed them. Gwen, who was used to Jack saying the same, smiled at her team's reaction; only Kevin had missed the implication.

"So where does this leave us? And what's our next move?" asked Gwen, moving the discussion along.

"We must locate the source of the signal," responded Selwyn immediately, "and stop it."

"Not so fast," objected Jack. "We don't what it's doing yet. Stopping it could be more dangerous than leaving it alone. And we need to be careful about locating it, don't want whoever's responsible to see what we're up to. Not yet anyway."

"Why not?" asked Lois. While her role was mainly administrative support, she had an enquiring mind and brought a keen intelligence to the work.

"Because, if this is a countdown, we don't want to scare the originators into bringing forward whatever's going to happen, not until we know what's going on and are ready to deal with it. Any news from Mexico yet?"

"I'll check. It might have come in," offered Selwyn and left the room.

They sat and waited. Jack and Kevin spoke about some technical issues, with Alonso chipping in a word or two. Lois poured Gwen more coffee and gently moved the plate of biscuits out of Alonso's reach while his attention was diverted. Gwen watched them but her mind was lost in memories of other meetings and other colleagues when the conversation had been peppered with obscenities and laughter. Her team was efficient and productive but it lacking the old chemistry.

"I've got it." Selwyn handed a piece of paper to Jack who, with Kevin's assistance, plotted it onto the map spread on the table before transferring it to the plasma screen. The others watched, leaning forward to get a better view.

"That narrows it down a lot," said Jack, activating the screen. "It's here, somewhere between Dallas, Oklahoma City and Little Rock."

"That's still a lot of miles," pointed out Gwen staring at the screen and remembering her trip when an inch on the map equated to at least a day's travel and on which whole towns were not even shown. "How do we narrow it down?"

"We get Hiram to go there and check it out," offered Selwyn only to be cut off.

"No. We can't leave this to other people," said Jack emphatically.

"Why not? The FBI are our partners and they know the ground. Hiram is experienced and well qualified. Gwen, we can't ignore the Network the first time something like this comes up!" He was passionate and Gwen admired him for it. The outer shell of the diplomat was cracking and in its place was a committed man. "This is what the Network was created for. If we ignore them, go it alone, we'll not have learnt anything. You have to trust people," he went on, addressing Jack.

"Why? Every time I do that they balls it up. If it wasn't for the FBI we'd have had proper first contact at Roswell!" Jack was not prepared to back down, too used to having his own way to be deflected now. "No, we do this my way."

"Jack, that's enough!" snapped Gwen, cutting across the two men. "I'm in charge here and I decide what's going to happen." They stared at one another, neither giving an inch. "Kevin, can we refine the data to get a more accurate location?"

The technician shook his head. "No, ma'am. That's as close as we can get with just the four readings." He looked from her to Jack to Selwyn, feeling their tension but not sure why they were getting so worked up.

"Okay. Thank you, everyone. I'll think about what we've found out and let you know what I decide."

With that, Gwen stood and walked out of the room. She felt good for standing up to Jack, quite like the old days, but had a feeling that he was probably right about the next step. Hiram Wendover was an excellent agent and a pleasant man but she felt unhappy about handing over the investigation to him. Even if he could be trusted, he reported to others and his superiors were more likely to go in all guns blazing than to mount a low-key operation. Back in her office, she shut the door and stood looking out of the window, not seeing the car park and surrounding buildings as she thought about her next step. She was still there five minutes later when the office door opened.

"You took your time," she said before turning round to see Jack standing in the doorway.

"Had to pry Al off the biscuits."

"He likes his food. And I thought you were bad!" She smiled as she sat at her desk. "I suppose you've come to make your case."

"No. I don't work for you, remember? I'm just borrowing some workspace." He took a couple of paces into the room and shut the door.

"Didn't sound like it in there."

"I forgot myself."

"Then you don't want to go and see what's making this signal?" She raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

A grin creased his face. "Never said that. I just don't need your permission. But … that's not why I'm here. Your job's tough enough without people like me making it harder."

"Wow, never thought I'd hear you say that!"

"I was in that seat for too long, I know what it's like. You and Owen challenged every decision I made!" They shared a smile at the memory. "But there's more that I realised I haven't told you." He perched on the back of the visitor's chair. "If this is a countdown there'll be a number of signals – three or four at least - that have to synchronise. My guess is they're dotted around the world in strategic locations. The one we've picked up could be the first or it may be that the others have been found but no one's saying anything."

"Like us."

Jack smiled. "Whatever. The last thing you need is the FBI making a fuss over this one and alerting those responsible. Send in a couple of people with a laptop and a scanner to do a recce. Only take a couple of days."

"This is American soil, we're talking about. The FBI and the US Government get bloody uptight about invasions!"

"Two people are hardly an invasion. More like holidaymakers." He eyed her speculatively. "You and me, Gwen?"

"No. Definitely not. I promised Rhys to stay out of the field and I'm not going back on that. Besides, I'm not leaving Daniel." Her mind was made up on this point. Rhys had put up with so much over the years and she would not take any chances with his or Daniel's happiness, or with her own which was bound up in those two men of hers.

"So you will send someone."

"I never said that!"

"But that's what you've decided." Jack was sure and pushed himself up from his perch. "You just don't know it yet. And, yes, if you want me to, I'll go." He smiled and walked out, right into Selwyn who had his hand raised to knock on the door. "She's free now." He sauntered off to the workshop.

"Come on in, Selwyn. Your turn." Gwen waved him to a chair.

He entered the room and closed the door, sitting down before speaking. "Gwen," he began, taking his time and picking his words with care, "Torchwood did a fantastic job in keeping the UK safe for a long time. No one doubts that, least of all me. But their methods left a lot to be desired. Some of that came from its secret nature but, I'm sorry but I have to say this, a lot of the blame can be laid at Captain Harkness's door."

"You're blaming Jack for saving the world?" Her tone was mild but there was a core of steel.

"No! No, that's not what I meant."

"It's what you said." She leant forward, resting her forearms on the desk. "Let's cut to the chase, Selwyn. Whatever Torchwood may have been, it did a damn fine job and I'll not let you or anyone else say otherwise. My friends died protecting this city and this country. But circumstances change and Torchwood has changed with them. I believe in cooperation."

"So you'll let the FBI handle it," he said, relieved she had seen sense.

"No. I'm sending Jack … and you." She chuckled when his mouth fell open.


	9. Chapter 7

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Seven

The Torchwood base was humming as everyone went about their business. Once Gwen had told Jack and Selwyn of her decision she placed a personal call to Hiram Wendover of the FBI's Washington office. She caught him at home, just as he was getting ready for work, and spoke to him off the record, calling in a favour he owed her for supporting him in a recent meeting. Gwen had always been persuasive and she used all her skills to get him to agree to her plan. With him on board, they discussed the details and she was very pleased when she ended the call. With Lois busy creating a cover identity for Jack, booking flights and a hire car, Gwen got on with the paperwork that had landed on her desk. She needed to clear the day-to-day work before lunch to make time for the planning meeting that afternoon.

In the workshop, Alonso was sitting at his workstation cobbling together more monitors to measure the crestinoni levels in the atmosphere. The megaheim-counter was rigged up but that was not enough to get the coverage necessary. Alonso was not happy, having just been informed that Jack was taking off without him. He peered over at workstation number two where Kevin and Jack were inserting a portable scanner into a laptop. They had their heads close together and were in deep conversation which made Alonso more irritated. With sudden decision, he stood up and walked out of the room, past the offices and out of the front door. He was standing by the wall kicking it when Jack came out to find him.

Jack stopped a few paces away from the boy and watched him continue to kick the wall. "You'll break your toes if you keep doing that." The kicking continued. "When you're ready to talk, let me know."

Lois had seen the exchange from her desk in Reception and made sure she looked busy when Jack strode back into the building. When he had gone through to the workshop, she debated for five minutes then got up and went out to join Alonso who was now sitting on the ground with his back to the wall. "Can I help?" she offered, sitting beside him.

"No."

"He'll only be gone a couple of days," she continued. "If you want to come and stay with me while he's away, I've got a spare room." She had reasoned that Alonso would feel lonely in a strange city without Jack and hoped to make him feel wanted.

Alonso looked at her with interest. He had not really noticed her before and now took in her friendly expression and shy smile; she was very pretty. It was a pity he wasn't attracted to women. "Thanks, but I don't mind being on my own. It's … it's just that I thought Jack and I were here to sort out the drugs thing and now he's off doing something else. It's like this isn't important any more."

"Drugs?"

"Yeah. This planet's atmosphere is being used to create drugs. And if we don't stop it," he went on, flinging out an arm in his exasperation, "everyone will be killed! But all of a sudden that's not important and Jack's going off somewhere else."

Lois was alarmed. In her year and a bit with Torchwood, the most potentially dangerous things they had done was handle artefacts and assist in the capture of a marauding bunch of traders from some distant galaxy. Now, not only was there a mysterious signal but Earth's atmosphere was in danger of collapse. But it was the mention of drugs that made her shiver. She had lost a friend to a heroin overdose and had a hatred for anyone involved in making and selling illegal drugs.

"Can I help? Not with the technical stuff, but anything else."

After a moment during which he regarded her silently, Alonso said, "I'd like that." Together they walked slowly back into the building as Alonso filled her in on his search so far.

-ooOoo-

Lunch was eaten separately at their desks as the team continued with their allotted tasks. Gwen felt the familiar buzz and smiled at the adrenalin rush even this change in routine had given her and, it appeared, the others. It had been like this all the time in the old days, when Toshiko and Owen as well as Ianto had been alive. From a desk drawer she took an envelope and shook out the photographs inside, taken when the team had had a night out at a karaoke bar: Owen and herself pulling faces at the camera; Toshiko, Ianto and Owen sitting at the table drinking; Jack singing with Ianto laughing at him. Good times.

"I miss you," she murmured to the lost friends and then returned the photographs to the envelope and placed it back in the drawer. The past was gone and she had to think of the present and the future, to carry on as the three of them would expect.

"Gwen?" Lois was standing at the half-open door. "I have the Prime Minister's office on the phone. Seems they've got wind of Jack's return."

"Them and everyone else. Put them through." Gwen had been fielding calls from UNIT contacts all morning as word had got round, spread by Colonel Burns, and she was not surprised it had now reached Whitehall. And Prime Minister Denise Riley had more reason than most to be alarmed by Jack's return.

Lois disappeared and a minute later Gwen's phone rang. "Kwame Olongo for you," announced Lois.

"Kwame, what can I do for you?" asked Gwen trying to sound upbeat.

"We've been hearing rumours, Gwen. Is it true?"

"Rumours about what? You'll have to be more specific." She picked up a pen and began doodling on her pad, drawing squares and other shapes at random.

"Harkness. Is he back?" Kwame's Yorkshire accent was more pronounced than normal, probably due to the blunt nature of the question.

"Yes."

"Shit. The PM's in a right tiss, wants to know if he's taking over your job."

"No, he's not. Jack's here for … personal reasons. No need for her to be concerned."

There was a pause while Kwame waited for more but Gwen was not talking. "Right, I'll tell her. She may want to talk to you."

"That's fine, she has the number. By the way, why weren't we told about the proposed changes to the blasphemy laws? You know the rules, we get consulted about everything." She emphasised the last word. A year on and the Government – Ministers and civil servants alike – were falling into bad habits.

"I didn't know you weren't. I'll look into it, Gwen, see it doesn't happen again. While I've got you, you know anything about these visions of the Virgin Mary? The Archbishop is getting excited and the PM is under pressure to visit one or other of the sites."

"I know no more than you. My advice is to steer clear for now. Sorry, Kwame, but I've got to go."

"Okay. Thanks."

Gwen put down the receiver and pondered what to do next. It was 1.40 and they were all due to meet at 2.00 for an update. Twenty minutes was not long enough to tackle most of the tasks awaiting her so instead she got up and took her mug and the wrappings from her lunch to the kitchen. Selwyn was on the phone and neither Lois nor Kevin were in their offices, so she went into the workshop.

" … and then it bit his bum!" This punchline to one of Jack's stories was followed by laughter from his audience: Kevin, seated at workstation eight and Lois and Alonso at workstation four.

"More tall tales?" Gwen raised an enquiring eyebrow at Jack who was stood in the centre of the room.

"Nah, it happened. Cross my heart." He grinned at her before putting half a jam doughnut in his mouth and chewing mightily.

"Maybe," she responded doubtfully. "How's it going in here?" Kevin's workstation had four laptops in pieces and she wandered in that direction, peering at them. "Going to be able to hide the scanner?"

"Yes, ma'am. We've loaded this one," Kevin indicated a MacBook Pro, "with a new motherboard and the Drallen scanning tech as well as software that will link back to our own equipment here. We're now uploading translation program Cyrus 9.4 and - "

"And other bits and pieces we might need," put in Jack, cutting across Kevin before he deluged Gwen with more technical detail. "Another couple of hours and we'll be done."

"Good. Let's take a walk, Jack." Gwen led the way to the emergency exit and the small patch of grass and weeds at the back of the building that they grandly called a garden. A bench had been placed here and she went to it and sat down. "I had No. 10 on the phone about you. Denise Riley, she's PM now, is, and I quote, 'in a tiss' about you coming back. Especially at the thought of you taking over here."

Jack smiled lazily as he sat, slightly turned towards Gwen, with legs crossed and one arm along the back of the bench. "Hope you put her straight. Not that she'll believe you."

"Something I should know?" Gwen had been in Cardiff while Jack cleared up in London after the 456 incident and was not privy to all that might or might not have been said by him to the politicians. His written report had been brief and to the point and she had not been in the mood to press for details.

He thought for a moment. "Let's say I didn't hold back when I met Green." His expression hardened at the thought of the ex-PM and what he had done. "And Riley came in for some of the same."

"I don't blame you, Jack, couldn't have happened to a more deserving pair of self-serving bastards. But are there any threats hanging over her?"

"Not from me. She has more to fear from Bridget Spears." He grinned wolfishly.

"I might just have a word with her." It had been Bridget, PA to John Frobisher who had killed himself and his family, that had forced Green to resign. "It's chillier than I thought, let's go back."

-ooOoo-

At 2.10 the team was gathered once more in the boardroom sitting around the table in the same places as before. Gwen summarised the position. "We have a strange, possibly alien, signal somewhere in the south west US that could be a countdown for something but we don't know what. Jack and Selwyn are going to go and take a look around the area, pinpoint the signal and see what's what." She looked at the two men. "Jack, you'll take the lead on the technical side but Selwyn will liaise with all local officials. You'll be working with Hiram Wendover of the FBI. He's agreed to run cover for you and not involve the field office or his superiors so do not mess with him. He's gone out on a limb for us."

"Understood. I had a quick word with him just now," explained Selwyn, "and it'll be him and his partner, Lorenzo Correlli, who I also know. They'll meet us at Dallas."

"Good. You on board with this, Jack?" pressed Gwen, meeting his gaze and not looking away. "I need you to play nice."

"Don't I always?" His face was the picture of innocence but anyone who knew him could not mistake the glint of amusement in his eyes.

"No. Lois, what are the travel arrangements?"

"I've booked them on a flight from Heathrow tomorrow morning. It leaves at 9.55 and arrives at 14.25 local time." She checked her notes. "As you didn't want to use Jack's real name, he'll be travelling as Jack Hooper, an American consultant. Here's the passport and other documentation." Lois passed a wodge of papers to him. "I'll give you both some dollars later this afternoon after I've been to the bank. I warned the airline you'll be travelling with handguns."

"Thank you," said Gwen, smiling at the efficient woman. "Jack, you'd better run through the technical stuff."

"Kevin and I decided to use a Drallen scanner concealed in a standard laptop combined with some of our other patent devices. Selwyn's laptop has the same tech plus a secure communications package. We've added a few more goodies to both too, just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case we find more than we bargained for." Jack brushed off the question and continued. "We'll keep in touch and I'll need Kevin to be available to analyse my findings; there's only so much I can do with the laptops. He's agreed to be on call. Other than that, he's going to set up a global search for other signals."

"You think there are more?" asked Lois, looking up from her notepad.

"One doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I think there must be more."

"Give this top priority, Kevin," added Gwen with an encouraging nod in his direction. "Will you need any help? I can ask UNIT to lend us a technician if you need one."

"I can manage, thank you, ma'am. The Captain's explained what he wants but it will mean working late tonight. Is that all right?" Kevin looked vaguely concerned, not being used to emergencies of this kind.

"Fine by me as long as you don't mind." Gwen knew that Kevin lived alone in a flat in Cathays and played war games on the internet all night. It had worried her when she'd recruited him but now she accepted it as the way he wanted to live. "Book it as overtime or take time in lieu, whichever you prefer." She saw Jack's surprised look and remembered working 24/7 under his regime without recompense of any sort. "How long before you expect to pick up a signal?"

"At least twelve hours."

"So we might have some results by this time tomorrow? That's good. Jack, what about your own project?"

"Alonso will be continuing with that. He's building some scanners and will be analysing the results. I doubt there'll be anything to report before I get back." Jack smiled at Alonso who grinned back at him. The two men had made their peace over lunch, made easier by Lois' offer to help during Jack's absence. "If there is, he knows to come to you. Right, Al?"

"Absolutely."

The boy turned his grin to Gwen who smiled back. He was a nice boy, too nice for Jack, and she determined to keep an eye on him over the next few days. Perhaps she should invite him and Lois round for a meal one evening; they seemed to be getting on well together. "Selwyn, let's meet after this and you can tell me what you need me to keep an eye on in your absence."

The fair-haired man nodded in agreement. "There's not a lot, Gwen. Just the usual reports and alerts."

"Good."

"Although you could make a start on the speech for the Foreign Ministers' meeting next month."

"Don't push your luck," she replied with a grin. "How you getting to the airport tomorrow?" she asked, moving back her chair in preparation for ending the meeting.

"I've arranged a car," replied Lois. "It was cheaper than parking and easier than the train. It'll pick them up at 5.00 tomorrow morning."

"A nice early start for you both. If that's all then?" When no one added anything, she stood up. "Let's get back to work. Thanks."

-ooOoo-

In the apartment in Penarth that evening, while Alonso was having yet another bath, Jack sat on the sofa with a glass of whisky reflecting on the day and wondering how he had got sucked back into Torchwood's business. There was no reason for him to be going to the States, he could have left the investigation to Gwen, but as soon as he had realised the importance of the signal he'd leapt into action. Instead of continuing his own search for the source of the crestinoni mining with Alonso he was abandoning both on some crusade to save the world. It was madness of the first order and yet … And yet it felt right. It felt the right thing to do. What he would have done before. Before losing Ianto.

"Want another?"

Jack looked up at Alonso, dressed in boxers and a rumpled shirt, and the whisky bottle he held out. "Please."

Alonso poured for Jack and himself and then sat beside the older man. "What are we going to do tonight?"

"Whatever you want." Jack's arm snaked round the boy's shoulders and pulled him close. "I'm sorry to be leaving but it's only for a couple of days."

"That's okay." Alonso rested his head on Jack's shoulder, sipping whisky. "Going to Gwen's tomorrow for supper. Lois is coming too."

"One long social whirl," chuckled Jack. "If you need anything, you can trust them both. Or call me. Okay?"

"Okay." He leant forward and put his empty glass on the coffee table. "Drink up, I have plans for you." With one lithe movement, Alonso swung a leg over Jack and sat in his lap straddling him. Holding his head in both hands, Alonso brought his mouth down on Jack's and showed him what he meant.


	10. Interlude 2

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Interlude Two

Winter comes early to Siberia and there had been several severe frosts already this October. The short summer was becoming a memory as the thermometer hovered around freezing every night, only rising a little above this during the short daylight hours. Snow was already replacing the rain and would soon blanket the city and stay in place until June next year.

Nicolas shivered as he left the warmth of his house despite the several layers of clothing that covered almost every inch of his body. Only a slice of his face was open to the elements between the hat and hood pulled low over his brow and the scarf over his chin. The truck started at the second attempt, the heavy duty battery doing its job, and he drove it slowly out onto the road and headed away from the centre of the city. In just a few minutes he had left the suburb behind, following the road as it wound through trees. A couple of trucks passed him going the other way in the twenty minutes it took him to drive to the lake.

Lake Baikal, the second largest freshwater lake in the world, was dark and silent in the cold night. Soon the ice that was forming on the shoreline would thicken and spread and the whole vast area would be frozen solid. The only sound to be heard this evening was the truck's engine which Nicolas left running for the heater; he'd freeze to death if he sat in an unheated cab for more than half an hour. Sitting staring out at the darkness, lit by only a few distant lights on the dam and an occasional sweep of headlights on the road that led to it, he wondered what his family was doing back at the house. Little Tasha, his three year old daughter, would be in bed now and hopefully asleep clutching the doll that went everywhere with her. Lana, his wife, would be tidying up while listening to the radio and probably still smarting from their row earlier in the evening. She didn't like him taking on these 'little jobs' for Boris but they paid well and the family needed the money.

When the clock on the dashboard read 20.30, Nicolas clambered from the cab into the night. It had got even colder and the wind was filled with icy projectiles that scraped at his exposed cheeks before he pulled the scarf up over his nose. Bending into the wind, head down, he got the tools from the back seat and headed down the frozen path by the feeble light of his torch. The path wound around between the fir trees and soon he was out of sight of the truck and the road. Walking on, he veered left off the path and carefully clambered down the slope to the shore of the lake, the weight of the tool bag on his right shoulder almost overbalancing him at one point. When he reached the level, pebble strewn narrow strip of beach he stopped to catch his breath and get his bearings.

After only a few moments, Nicolas started off again. The wind was stronger here, blowing in across the huge expanse of water and it was dangerous to stand still for too long. He picked his way along the shore past stunted trees and dense undergrowth, dodging patches of ice and snow, until he reached a large boulder and ducked behind it. The torchlight showed the narrow crevasse and he squeezed through into the cave beyond. It was quieter in here and blessedly out of the wind but still icily cold. He lowered his scarf. An inlet of the lake had scoured out the cave leaving behind a roughly semi-circular opening four metres high and six or seven across at the widest point. Water ebbed and flowed leaving a constant pool on the bottom of the cave rising to a metre or more at high-water.

Skirting the knee-high water, he climbed onto the rocky ledge above the high water mark and dropped the tool bag beside the cone and rectangular power pack he had brought in the day before. It had taken him hours to assemble and he was not sure it would work. The power pack was like nothing he had ever seen before. He assumed it was from the West; Boris had many contacts in the United States. Kneeling, he removed his outer gloves and placed them on the ledge and hoped he would be able to work in his thin silk inner ones; he could not afford to lose fingers to frostbite. Opening the hatch on the side of the cone as instructed, Nicolas attached the heavy duty leads, screwing them up tight with the help of a pair of pliers. With everything in place, he flicked the switch and nodded in satisfaction when the two blue lights came on; it was done.

He was making his way back to the crevasse, the water higher now, when a large sinuous body emerged suddenly from the water and knocked Nicolas sideways, pinning him to the cave wall. It bit into his neck, injecting its paralysing venom before the man had time to react. Another of the creatures emerged from the water and helped drag the helpless but conscious Nicolas Baranshikov under the water.

* * *

_Those pesky water creatures strike again ..._


	11. Chapter 8

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Eight

_Over the Atlantic_

The plane from London to Dallas was three-quarters full overall but in business class only half the seats were filled. The Torchwood pair had a row of three seats to themselves and used the middle one to pile up the spare pillows, blankets and other paraphernalia the airline decided were essential to their travelling comfort. Also on the seat was Selwyn Agnew's converted laptop; Jack had his open on the tray and was working on it.

Settling back more comfortably in his seat, Selwyn stretched his long legs out under the seat in front and partly into the aisle - Jack had opted for the window seat – and sipped his red wine. Without making it obvious, he studied his companion. They had been in the air for three hours with another seven to go and Selwyn, who had wondered how the two of them would get on, had been surprised how pleasant it had been. Jack talked easily, always adding an unexpected twist to any topic, but was not bothered by periods of silence. He was easy in his own skin and didn't try to impress. They had chatted about inconsequential things and flirted with the very pretty flight attendants (both sexes in Jack's case). Selwyn hoped to bring the discussion round to more substantive matters. He wanted to work up a plan for their time in the US and, if Jack was willing, to quiz him on his background. The video pictures of Jack returning to life after the explosion were vivid in his memory and he wanted to know if it was as painful as it had looked, how it had felt. But there was time for that, Selwyn would wait for a suitable opportunity.

"More wine, sir?" The blonde attendant was back with the trolley of refreshments.

"Please." Selwyn accepted the small bottle.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" the attendant asked Jack, leaning down so Selwyn got a good view of her breasts straining against the uniform shirt she wore.

"Uhh, another water, please. And didn't I tell you to call me Jack?"

"You know I can't do that, sir. Against regulations." The woman chuckled as she passed the bottle of chilled water across, her hand lingering under Jack's for longer than necessary.

Jack sighed forlornly. "Then at least give me your phone number." She laughed some more and turned to the passengers on the other side of the aisle. "I'm losing my touch."

"Plenty of time yet. Is everything working all right?" He nodded towards the laptop where lines of computer code marched across the screen.

"Think so. Soon find out." Jack went back to his work.

Selwyn turned on his seatback TV and watched some promotional programmes about Texas, a place he knew little about, and a newscast. He dipped into an in-flight movie but found it was one he had seen at the cinema on his last date with Babs. The memory of their break-up – she had cried a lot - just days later soured the movie and Selwyn switched over to the flight information channel and sat watching a tiny plane move infinitely slowly across the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Looks riveting," commented Jack, closing his laptop and spying the display. "Can't you find anything better to watch?"

"No. So is it going to work?"

"Far as I can see. Kevin did a good job."

"He's a good technician." Selwyn drained the last of his wine and put the glass on the tray of the middle seat which held both men's drinks and empty bottles. "Lots of experience with UNIT before he came to us."

"And what's your background?" Jack twisted in his seat, left leg bent so he got a better view of the other man.

"Foreign Office. Joined out of university and did five years in London before a three year posting to the Embassy in Lisbon. Was back in London at the time of the 456 and put in for Torchwood when word came they were recruiting."

"Why?"

"I wanted to help protect Earth." He saw Jack regard him sceptically and smiled. "Okay, I wasn't getting on as fast as I wanted in the FO, it's so hierarchical, and I knew I'd have a dirty posting next, Africa or one of the Baltic States probably, which didn't appeal. Cardiff becomes very attractive when compared to Botswana and Azerbaijan."

"Don't knock it. It's been … it was my home for many years."

Selwyn leant forward, grasping the opening he'd been given. "I'd love to hear more about your time in the city. About Torchwood, how you got there, the things you've seen."

Jack regarded him solemnly. Yet another young man wanted his life story, intrigued no doubt by the tales he had already heard about the man who did not die. How much did Selwyn already know? How much had Gwen shared? More importantly, how much did Jack want to tell him? Nothing, he decided. They were memories he didn't want to rake up for this man's titillation.

"Sorry, not now."

"Fine." Selwyn settled back in his seat, an understanding smile on his face to hide his disappointment; he wasn't a diplomat for nothing. "Looks like there's more food coming," he said, glancing up the aisle at the laden trolleys making their way down from the front of the plane.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

That lunchtime, Gwen was at home playing with her son. Daniel lay on his front beside her, lifting up his wobbly head to look around while dribbling onto the cushion that helped prop him up. He was alert and interested in the toys she dangled in front of him and in all her chatter, and far too cute for her to want to leave and return to the office. She had nipped home to dump the shopping for the evening meal and not been able to resist spending time with the baby.

"Come on, love, time you got back to work." Rhys entered the room with dirty bed sheets. He had a day's leave to look after the baby – the childminder was at a funeral - and was catching up on housework. "Danny will still be here when you get home tonight." He loaded the sheets into the washing machine before turning to face her.

"I know. I just don't want to leave him." She scooped Daniel up and cuddled him tight until he started to protest. "Sorry, sweetheart." She kissed his downy head and drank in the baby smell that made all her protective instincts come to the fore.

"Let me have him. Sooner you go, earlier you'll be back tonight. You going to be normal time?" Rhys gently took Daniel from her arms, settling him against his chest.

"Should be. Then we've got Lois and Alonso coming round at seven." She stroked the baby's back one last time and reached for her bag. "If you can get this place tidy it would really help."

"No probs. Off you go." They kissed and she reluctantly left the house.

During the journey back to the office, she turned her mind away from domestic matters and back to work. There were three things she wanted to move along that afternoon. Top of the list were the global scans for more of the countdown signals; Kevin should have some results by now. Next, she wanted to check in with Alonso about his project and to double check he was going to be all right on his own while Jack was out of the country. And lastly, she and Lois had a scheduled budget meeting. That was without phone calls and other unplanned interruptions. It was going to be a busy afternoon.

Lois was on the phone in Reception when Gwen walked through and waved an acknowledgement. Checking her PC for emails and messages, Gwen dealt with a couple of queries, deleted a dozen or more round-robins in which she had no interest whatsoever and left the rest to look at later. All the phone calls could wait. Grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, she went into the workshop.

"Kevin, got anything for me yet?"

The technician was at workstation two with the radio equipment. The PC monitor showed a map of South America, revealed when he swivelled his chair round to face her. "The Captain was right, ma'am. I've picked up two more signals, and possibly a third."

"Damn." She rolled a chair over and sat at the desk. "Tell me what you've found."

"The strongest signal is from the east. It's hard to pin down specifically without other bearings."

"I understand that but can't you narrow it down at all? I mean, is it Paris, the Middle East, Japan? What are we talking about here?"

"It's outside Europe and probably a lot further east. Most likely China or Russia. The other one is strange." His face was creased up into childish perplexity, so at odds with his boxer's appearance.

"Why?" Gwen's mind was still considering the implications of involving China and Russia in the search for the signals. Neither country was particularly co-operative and would block any move to let outside operatives onto their territory.

"It's weaker and seems to come from the sea."

He had all her attention now. "The sea?"

"Yes, ma'am. Down here." He pointed to the screen, to the southernmost tip of South America. "Somewhere around here I think."

"There's nothing down there, is there?"

"I was just looking." He gestured to the monitor. "It's possible it's coming from Antarctica."

Gwen hoped not, it was one of the most inaccessible places on Earth even if it was summer down there. "You said something about a third signal," she prompted.

"Another one from the east but it's not been going long enough to be sure it's one of ours." He paused, saw her mouth begin to open and for once anticipated her next question. "At a guess, ma'am, I'd say it was coming from Indonesia or Australia."

She sat back in the chair considering all she had learnt and sipped from the water bottle. Behind her, Alonso knocked over something with a thud and a gentle curse but otherwise it was quiet except for the machinery humming. They had three more possible signals to locate which meant more of the triangulation which in turn meant involving other parts of the Network in the problem. Calls to Russia and China were essential. A glance at the monitor to refresh her memory of South American geography and Brazil and Argentina joined the list. If the last signal panned out, Australia and India had to be on the list too. Involving all of them effectively meant alerting the entire Network and she wasn't sure she was ready for that yet.

-ooOoo-

_Texas_

Dallas/Fort Worth airport was like all others of its kind, a vast space filled with people rushing to and from planes with many more milling around waiting. The passengers of flight AA51 from London emerged into the glass and metal concourse of Terminal D and headed off their separate ways. Jack and Selwyn were among the last to emerge as they had had to wait to retrieve their guns from security. Waiting for them was Hiram Wendover who waved to attract Selwyn's attention.

"Welcome to the US of A," he drawled in his Virginia accent, pumping Selwyn's hand. "Good flight?"

"Excellent, thanks. Hiram, this is Jack … Hooper, our technical expert," he said, remembering the alias just in time.

"Good to meet you." Jack shook Hiram's hand, grinning broadly; Hiram was barely five feet eight tall and against the six foot three Selwyn he looked even shorter. The American was dressed in the uniform of all the FBI agents Jack had ever met – dark suit with a white shirt and unobtrusive tie - and was holding the obligatory sunglasses.

"American, huh? That's a surprise," commented Hiram.

"Got to keep you on your toes," put in Selwyn, hefting the heavy laptop onto his shoulder more securely. His wheeled case was standing beside him. "Lorenzo around?"

"At the vehicle. Security's pretty tight round here." He led the way to the large and perpetually moving revolving doors, asking again about the flight and making other small talk with Selwyn. Jack trailed along behind, toting his bag and laptop and fingering the piece of paper with the flight attendant's phone number which had been slipped into his hand as they left the plane. Outside the building the light was bright and Hiram immediately donned his sunglasses as he walked a few metres to the right and the waiting black SUV against which lounged another man dressed in exactly the same way. "Jack, this is Lorenzo Correlli. Lo, Jack Hooper and you already know Selwyn."

"Sure do. Welcome both of you." Lorenzo spoke with a crisp Midwest accent. He was a couple of inches taller than his partner but still shorter than both Jack and Selwyn. His shirt and jacket strained over a paunch.

"Let's get out of here," suggested Hiram who had put the travellers' bags and one laptop – Jack kept hold of his - in the boot of the SUV. "There's a diner not far from here where we can grab a coffee and talk about how we go about finding this signal o'yours."

The four men climbed into the SUV, Hiram beside Lorenzo who drove and the others in the back. Selwyn kept the conversation going in the fifteen minute drive out of the airport precincts and onto one of the four-lane highways that served the city until they turned off at a service area. Jack sat back listening to discussions of climate – it was 73ºF – and local history while looking out of the side window at the passing traffic. He felt relieved at not being required to join in, at being able to sit back and let another take the lead in dealing with these FBI agents. He had borne the burden of leadership for long enough.

The diner was a modern building made to look like one from the 1950s with booths running under the window and stools at the counter. It was all red leather, chrome fittings and sporting memorabilia. Only a few tables were occupied and Hiram led them to a booth in a far corner away from the other patrons and ordered drinks. Lorenzo unfolded a large map that covered the table.

"We have a lot of area to cover," he indicated. "You going to be able to narrow it down?"

"I've already started scanning." Jack patted the laptop on the windowsill beside him. "This will give us a bearing to follow."

"How long before we can move on it?" asked Hiram as the waitress came over and deposited coffee and Jack's banana milkshake.

"Should have something in half an hour or so." Jack sucked on the straw of his drink.

"Long enough to get you settled into the hotel then. We booked you rooms in the Marriott with us."

"That's kind, thanks." Selwyn sipped the coffee, joining the conversation for the first time. "We appreciate you helping us out like this, Hi. And you, Lo."

Jack spluttered sending droplets of milkshake over the map on the table. "Hi and Lo? That is just brilliant!"

The two FBI agents looked at him curiously. "I'm sorry?"

Selwyn kicked Jack in the ankle. Everything had been going so well and now Jack had put his foot in it. Making fun of their hosts was not going to win them any friends. He wondered how best to get things back on track.

"You don't think it's funny?" protested Jack, grinning as he mopped up the spillage. "I think it's great." He giggled some more.

"Ignore him," said Selwyn, "you know how weird techies can be. Can you show me exactly where we are on here?" He pointed to the map where Dallas was unmistakable, feigning ignorance in order to get over the moment.

"He's not a technie," said Lorenzo slowly, his gaze fixed on Jack who was sitting opposite him. "He's Jack Harkness."

"That's the trouble with being around as long as I have," responded Jack blithely, "too many people know what I look like. Tried plastic surgery once but it just reversed itself. Total waste of money." He smiled at his companions before sucking on his straw.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

Dinner in the Cooper-Williams household had gone well. Rhys' lasagne with salad and crusty French bread followed by strawberry cheesecake had been eaten and enjoyed. The conversation - once Rhys stopped saying how young Alonso looked – had flowed as readily as the wine and Daniel had slept through the lot. With the table cleared and dishwasher loaded, the four of them were in the sitting room with coffee.

"How you liking Cardiff, Alonso? Bet you've never seen anything like this place." Rhys really wanted to ask about space flight and aliens but had been strictly forbidden by Gwen who wanted the boy to be made to feel at home not reminded of what he had left behind.

"Haven't seen much of it, just the apartment and Torchwood. Oh and the supermarket, I loved the supermarket."

"Can't have that, I'll have to show you around. Got a lads' night out tomorrow, you'll come along, right?"

"It'll just be one long pub crawl," warned Gwen. "A lot of stupid men who should know better getting drunk and acting daft."

"Sounds good." Alonso grinned. "Jack and I did that all the time. A few hyper-vodkas and some fakshah and we didn't know where we were."

"See, Gwen, lad after my own heart this one. We'll be starting out -" He broke off when Daniel's cries were heard through the baby monitor. "Oh, he's awake. I'll go and get him."

"No, I will," protested Gwen, halfway to her feet already.

"No! You stay here and chat." Rhys put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down onto the couch.

"But you had him all day." She stood up again.

The argument was settled by the sound of Gwen's mobile. "You're wanted, love." Rhys grinned and hurried from the room.

Fuming, Gwen reached into her bag and pulled out the mobile. "Jack," she said after checking the display.


	12. Chapter 9

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Nine

_Texas_

The SUV was heading out of Dallas along Route 67. Lorenzo Correlli drove keeping to just within the speed limit, watching his front passenger, Jack Harkness, out of the corner of his eye. The man was a legend in the intelligence world and Lorenzo had not imagined he would ever meet him. Jack was aware of the scrutiny but ignored it, concentrating instead on the laptop open before him. The signal was coming in loud and clear; they were getting closer.

"Maybe we should have stopped at the hotel," said Hiram Wendover, sitting in the back with Selwyn. "Let you boys get settled in."

"No time," said Jack. "If you want to tell your bosses I'm in town, there's no need to do it in secret." He glanced over his shoulder at Hiram who shifted uncomfortably but held his ground. "Go ahead."

"It is pretty big news. Which should have been shared with us." He looked at Selwyn accusingly.

"I don't see that it makes any difference, Hi. Jack is working with Torchwood on this, he's the one who saw the significance of the signals. We're lucky he's here," Selwyn soothed, wondering if he would come to believe his own words. He was as uneasy around the immortal man as the FBI agent.

"I think we need to call Gwen," said Jack cutting into the conversation. He was not interested in the FBI's sensibilities, just in tracking down the signal. "See what Kevin's come up with." He got out his mobile and dialled her number. "Hey, Gwen."

"_Jack, you arrived okay then?" _

"Yep. We're here in the Lone Star State with our good pals Hi and Lo." He grinned when she laughed. "See, she gets it." The others looked sourly at him. "I'm going to put you on speaker, Gwen."

"_Thanks, hello everyone. Where are you? What are you doing?" _

Selwyn answered for them all. "We're just leaving Dallas heading northeast. Jack has a lock on the signal and it seems to be reasonably close."

"_Define reasonably."_

"Within a hundred miles," answered Jack. He had turned in his seat, getting caught up with the wire from the laptop which was plugged in to recharge the battery while still holding his mobile. "Any news of other signals?"

"_We've found two definites and one possible."_ Gwen sounded serious and the four men in the SUV exchanged glances; this was bad. _"The definites are coming from eastern Asia, Russia or China we think, and South America. Or maybe Antarctica."_

"Did you say Antarctica?" put in Hiram, shocked.

"_I did. It's somewhere in that region. The possible is from Indonesia or Australia. That's not been broadcasting as long so the others." _Gwen paused. _"I contacted the relevant countries to do the triangulation thing." _She expected an outburst from Jack for alerting yet more of the Network to the possible threat posed by the signals.

"Good call. We're going to need them," said Jack, surprising her.

"Gwen, what about the rest of the Network?" put in Selwyn. "This is looking more and more like a major threat, they ought to be informed."

"_I plan on doing that in the morning." _

"Gwen, hold off on that until you hear from us," said Jack. "It'd be better to give them an idea of what we're facing."

There was a pause as Gwen thought about this._ "How long before you can give me that information? I can't hold off for ever." _

"I can't say for sure but it won't be long. I promise, Gwen."

"_Damn it, Jack, I know your promises." _

"Then you know I always keep them. If you really want something to worry about, consider what's at the centre of the signals." He snapped the phone shut.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

Gwen stared at her mobile for a moment then slid it closed. Rhys came into the room with Daniel in his arms but for once Gwen did not immediately go to check the baby, she stood silent, considering what Jack had said then went to the bookcase. Scrambling among the books, CDs and DVDs which were jumbled together she found what she was looking for and sat cross-legged on the floor with the large tome open on her lap. The atlas was a relic of a book club offer and rarely used but it had somehow survived the move to Penarth. The familiar world map stared up at her and she checked the four locations: Texas, Russia/China, South America and Australia. Four signals. Four corners of a square. And in the middle … the Greenwich Meridian.

"Shit."

"What is it, love?" asked Rhys. He had passed Daniel to Lois and gone to stand over Gwen. "What have you got that old atlas out for?"

"Those signals I told you about," she kept no secrets from Rhys, "they form a square and in the middle is London." She took his hand and stood up.

"Another alien invasion?" asked Lois.

Gwen heard the concern and pulled herself together; no need to worry others. Not yet anyway. "I don't know but those signals appear to be surrounding us."

"May I see?" Alonso had been admiring the baby but now held out his hand for the atlas. "I've seen signals like this before," he reminded her, "I might be able to help."

"Of course. I'd welcome your thoughts." She smiled at him, reminded that he had travelled in space and had a much wider knowledge of aliens and their ways than would appear from his youthful appearance. With the atlas open on the coffee table, the four of them pored over it. "Here are the signals." She marked large crosses on the map. "The locations aren't specific but you can see the general layout."

"That does look like a square, love, you're right." Rhys drew a finger over the map. "Why is it always us who gets the shitty aliens?" he asked no one in particular.

Alonso was struggling with the unfamiliar map. Earth was known to him but the layout of its continents was something new. "Where's London?"

"Here." Gwen put a finger on the map and obliterated the whole of the UK; it was such a tiny speck. "The Meridian runs through it."

"And down here." Alonso followed the faint line. "Through … France, Spain and this big place, Africa." He pronounced the names slowly as the new words they were to him. "Why do you think it's London?"

"Because it always is." Gwen sat back on her heels. "Like Rhys said, we get all the shit." The baby's cries, which were growing more persistent, drew her attention. "Time this one was fed. Rhys, sweetheart, could you do his bottle?" He went off to the kitchen while Gwen took Daniel from Lois and quietened him.

"These signals, Alonso," asked Lois looking more carefully at the map, "are they always set up around a target like this?"

He nodded. "Quite often. By bringing them in sync they trigger an event, whatever it is, at a common point. It makes sense to have them equidistant from the target."

Gwen watched as the two of them continued to pore over the map, Lois answering Alonso's questions about Earth geography. They were getting on well. Earlier in the evening they had reported on the progress of the project to track down the source of the depletion of crestinoni in the atmosphere. At this stage, they were still awaiting the results of the scans Alonso had set up but Lois had been as knowledgeable as he was about the problem if not the science he was using. Initially, Gwen had merely been grateful Lois was taking an interest in helping Alonso settle, he'd be lonely with Jack out of the country, but now she saw he was helping her too. Lois had uprooted herself from her extended family in Notting Hill to relocate to Cardiff. While she had never expressed any regret, it was noticeable that she was happier after a weekend back home. She missed the support of her family and while she had made some friends locally – through membership of a gym and a rambling club – she had not found a steady girlfriend to fill the gap.

Rhys returned with the bottle and Gwen settled Daniel in the crook of her arm and put the teat in his mouth, smiling as he sucked strongly. Her boy liked his food and had gained weight steadily.

"Gwen," said Lois thoughtfully, "there's one thing about the Meridian."

"What's that?"

"All the sightings of the Virgin Mary have taken place not far from it."

-ooOoo-

_Texas_

Daylight on this October day was coming to an end when the SUV pulled up beside Lake Fork just outside the small town of Yantis. The water was afire with reflected red and gold and the white blobs of fishing boats stood out against the colourful background. The four men got out of the vehicle, happy to stretch their legs after two hours cooped up inside. Jack walked to the lakeside, holding the laptop open, turning it this way and that to pinpoint the source of the signal he had been following.

"What is this place?" asked Selwyn looking round at the unfamiliar countryside. Everywhere by the lake was green and the vegetation lush but the country they'd driven through had been brown and dusty. This was a hot place and even on a late October evening, it was warm enough to be out without a jacket.

Lorenzo and Hiram spread their large scale map on the bonnet of the SUV. "This is the way we came, through Greenville and Sulphur Springs," said Lorenzo. They'd overshot at that point, going thirty miles along Route 67 before realising their mistake and turning back to head south on Highway 154. "This is Yantis, the town we just passed through."

Selwyn remembered the 'town', a tiny place with one main street containing a few shops and communal buildings that he'd almost missed. Houses were dotted around on large lots and they'd also seen some new housing developments obviously designed for wealthy commuters from the city. All of that was insignificant beside the huge lake. He looked at the map and saw other small settlements dotted around the area, connected by roads some of which crossed branches of the V-shaped lake.

"I thought Texas was a dry state yet here's this huge lake."

Hiram was thumbing through a guidebook he'd retrieved from the glove compartment. "Let's see what this says. Here we are. Lake Fork covers 27,690 acres and has 315 miles of shoreline," he read. "It's a reservoir for Dallas and a renowned fishing lake for bass and catfish."

"Pity we didn't bring our rods," commented Lorenzo, walking with the other two to stand by Jack who was now using his wrist strap controls to scan the area.

"Is this the place, Jack?" asked Selwyn.

"Yes. It's out there, in the lake."

"In the lake?" queried Hiram. "You mean underwater?"

"Possibly. More likely on one of those islands." Jack gestured to them, covered in trees and more lush vegetation. He scanned the sky and the horizon. "It's going to be full dark soon. We can't do anything more now."

"Okay. So we head back to Dallas and come out first thing."

Jack turned to look at him, refastening the cover on his wrist strap. "It's not worth leaving. Must be somewhere to stay around here."

"But we have hotel rooms in the city," pointed out Lorenzo who liked his comfort. He didn't think the hick towns round about would offer much in the way of luxury.

"It's just one night, Lo. I agree with Jack, we stay. We've still got our bags in the SUV." Hiram was the senior partner and he didn't even look at Lorenzo as he made his pronouncement. He was flicking through the guide book. "Don't see any listings for motels nearby."

"What about those cabins we passed?" asked Jack. They had seen the signs as they'd driven along Farm to Market Road 515. "It's closest."

Hiram was still looking in his guidebook. "Got them. Scenic 515 Cabins," he read out, "available to rent all year round. Let's go see if they have vacancies."

"We'll need a boat," pointed out Selwyn. "Can you lay your hands on one?"

"One thing at a time. Rooms first."

It was two miles back to the site where they rousted out the manager who rented them two twin bedded cabins: Jack and Selwyn in one and the FBI agents in the other. After a bit of negotiation, the manager also agreed to loan them his own boat. The cabins were set in a large, pleasantly wooded area with plenty of room for cars, boats and RVs. It was full dark by the time they'd sorted this out and after a quick change of clothes, and following the manager's recommendation, they headed for East Fork Restaurant and Club just a few miles away.

The restaurant was enormous, seating three or four hundred people at least and it was doing good business even on a weekday evening. The four men were seated at a round table and got beers to slake their thirst. The menu was a mix of meat and fish with a strong Mexican influence and they ordered straightaway, hungry after a long day and from the delectable aromas wafting out from the kitchen. Jack tapped his foot in time to the country music as he looked round the place, a mix of seating and a large dance area with a stage for live performances. It was all rough and ready, a bit like the clientele. The majority of the men wore checked shirts, jeans and Stetsons and the women short, tight denim skirts and T-shirts. The FBI agents stuck out like a sore thumb even out of their suits as did Jack himself, only Selwyn in jeans and a white shirt looked suitably dressed if a bit too clean.

Hiram had his nose in the guidebook again and Jack was briefly reminded of Ianto who had been the same, always researching and checking. Such reminders of Ianto came to Jack at unexpected moments and he felt the loss every time. Whenever he thought he was getting over the pain it would return, opening old wounds, but they hurt less each time. As the months passed, he was coping better and remembered more of the good times and was comforted by them.

"We struck lucky. Most of the county is dry," reported Hiram without looking up.

"Even with that huge lake?" asked Selwyn, relaxing with his beer.

Hiram and Jack laughed. "I think Hi means that no alcohol is sold in the county," said Jack taking a swig of beer.

"That's right. Just this place by the looks of it. I'd like to take a look around the area a bit, Lo, maybe visit the late night store in town for a couple of things."

"After I eat." Lorenzo was a man who liked his food and he had spotted their waitress returning.

They took an hour over the meal. Hiram and Lorenzo had steaks, Selwyn chicken while Jack went for chilli rellenos with rice and beans. The portions were generous and with another beer each, the four men enjoyed the meal. It was gone 21.00 when Hiram and Lorenzo went off for their survey, driving round the lake and stopping in Yantis to visit the store. When they returned to the restaurant, they found Jack throwing horseshoes out back with a couple of local guys and Selwyn dozing at a nearby picnic table. Back at the cabins, they settled in for the night. Selwyn turned in immediately, the jet lag catching up with him. Jack sat out on the small porch in the dark night so as not to disturb him. At midnight, having calculated the time difference, he pulled out his mobile and dialled. It rang for a long time.

"_Hello?"_ came eventually, the voice sleepy and disorientated.

"Hi. Is it still too early?"

"_Jack, is that you?"_ Alonso's voice cleared and became stronger as he woke up. It was 6.05.

"Yeah. Wanted to check in, Al, make sure you were okay." Jack pictured the young man sitting up in bed, his face still puffy with sleep and dried dribble on his chin. "What have you been doing?"

"_I'm fine. Went to Gwen's last night for dinner. The baby's lovely." _

As Alonso described his evening Jack relaxed, the guilt at leaving the boy behind eased. Gwen was looking out for him. And, it appeared, so was Rhys. Jack laughed when told of the plans for a pub crawl that night and gave him the names of a few places to visit and some to avoid.

"_I've set up the scans for the crestinoni levels,"_ said Alonso. _"Should be getting some indication of where the concentration is changing later today." _

"That's good. Once you've got that, you'll need to check for alien activity in the area and -"

"_I know. Lois showed me the records Torchwood keeps, there's masses. I didn't realise so many aliens came to Earth."_

"Regular holiday destination," said Jack dryly. "But you'll be looking for flying visits, don't forget. Brief incursions to scoop up the minerals and leave. I very much doubt the drugs are being made on Earth."

"_You worry too much."_ Even over several thousand miles, Alonso sounded smug. _"We know what we're looking for." _

Jack laughed. "Okay, I'll stop telling you how to do your job. If you find something, make sure you tell Gwen. She'll know how to proceed."

"_We will. Now, what's it like where you are? What have you been doing?" _

Jack told him. After a short chat the conversation became more intimate and graphic and both enjoyed the delights of phone sex. Promising to call again when he could, Jack finally ended the call. He thought of trying Gwen but decided she'd be busy with the baby and other morning activities. They could speak later when she was in the office. Deciding to lie down for a while - he was relaxed enough for sleep now - he went back into the cabin and quietly, so as not to disturb Selwyn, stripped off his clothes and got into the unoccupied single bed.

* * *

_Next chapter, Jack goes searching ..._


	13. Interlude 3

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Interlude Three

The shack was quiet when Ilie woke and light came through the uncurtained window. He lay still, the drug remaining in his system disorientating his perceptions, and recalled the visions he had experienced. The Lady had come to him again. He had expected a blessing and praise for his hard work but instead had been criticised for not working faster. The Lady was impatient to return. His explanations had been ignored until The Lady's anger had run its course and she had sullenly accepted that he could not work any faster.

As his brain cleared, he raised his head carefully – his visions left headaches in their wake – and eased from the rumpled bed. He made it to the crude bathroom and plunged his head into the cold water he had left in the basin and held it there as long as possible. Gasping for air, he surfaced then repeated the process. With a clearer head, he dried himself and shuffled into his living room. The cup stood on the floor beside the bed and he took it reverently into the back room where he wiped it clean and placed it back on its pedestal. A few minutes' prayer kneeling before the altar completed his recovery.

Closing the door between the two rooms, he made some strong black coffee and sat at the table with it, opening his laptop. He was expecting news. Three e-mails waited in his mailbox. He opened the first from .com.

'_It is done. Broadcast activated and loose ends eliminated. Praise The Lady. Boris.' _

Attached to this was a link to a newspaper in Irkutsk, Siberia. Ilie could not read the Russian text well but he made out enough to ascertain that a man called Nicolas Baranshikov, a local man, had been found frozen in ice at the edge of Lake Baikal. His second and third emails were similar to the first, confirmations that the cones had been activated and were now broadcasting on the agreed wavelength. The men used to achieve this were both dead.

It was done. In just a few more days the signals would synchronise and the way would open for The Lady.

Ilie found the excitement and tension combine in his body and he could no longer sit still. He jumped from his chair and scampered about the room, dancing a glorious jig of accomplishment. He was the one who had been chosen by Holy Semiramis to bring the plan that spanned generations to fruition, and he would be the one to reap the rewards. His time was coming, it was so close, so very close.

"Master? Master, are you all right?"

Ilie stopped his wild cavorting and looked to the now open door, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Dimitri stood there blocking the light. "Yes, yes," panted Ilie, "I am well. Come in and close the door."

The man did as he was bid and stood just inside. He was a mechanic and his overalls smelt of motor oil from the tractor he had been working on that morning. He twisted a dirty rag in his hands. "You are sure, Master?"

Dimitri had never seen the priest dance before and was not sure what to make of it. There were many stories of his odd behaviour and some in the village thought him mad, like his father and his father before him. Others thought he was possessed. All of them thought he was peculiar and avoided him as much as possible. It was chance that had brought Dimitri to his door – to fix a broken water pump – and he returned only to satisfy his lust with the women at the ceremonies. He had no idea why the madman played the priest, and spread many stories around the village adding to the man's eccentric reputation.

"Yes," Ilie snapped. "I had some good news, that is all. Now, what do you want?"

"I was wondering, Master, will there be another ceremony? Tonight, maybe?"

"No. Once a week, you know that. If that's all you want, leave now." Ilie righted the chair that had fallen on its side and sat down, closing the laptop before Dimitri decided to look at the screen.

Stung by the tone of the dismissal, Dimitri made to retort. He was a good worker and valued by his small community, even the important landowners asked him to fix their vehicles, while the priest was just a madman. It was he, Dimitri, who was the important one here. However, it was Ilie who found and brought the women. Married for ten years with five children, Dimitri's marriage was stale and the sex predictable: he liked the variety provided by his weekly 'prayer meetings' too much to give it up. He left the shack but a seed of discontent was growing in his breast.

Ilie relaxed when the door closed and he was alone once more. Soon, very soon, he would be able to shed his snivelling followers and lead a mighty host of priests and acolytes. His day was coming.


	14. Chapter 10

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Ten

_Cardiff_

Walking into the Torchwood offices, Gwen was amused to find Alonso in Reception telling Lois all about a phone call with Jack. He was obviously excited and pleased to have been contacted and was grinning as he went into the workshop to check on the scans he'd set up.

"He makes me feel so old," sighed Gwen, after the door had closed behind him. She was pleased that Jack had taken the time to call; he had clearly learnt something from his relationship with Ianto.

"Me too."

"You? Nonsense, you're a child yourself." A career as a police officer and then with Torchwood had given Gwen such a wide experience of life that she felt twice as old as her thirty two years.

"Hardly!" laughed Lois. "The post is on your desk with the newspapers. I'm still collating all the information on the Mary sightings. Should have it together in another hour or so."

"That's fine. I need to clear some of the reports that have been piling up. Kevin in yet?"

"Uh huh. He's been putting in long hours lately."

"Thank goodness, we need him."

"As long as he doesn't work himself too hard," warned Lois. "Excuse me." Her hand reached for the ringing telephone.

Gwen continued to her office and dumped her attaché case. There was a lot of post that morning, most already opened by Lois with some still sealed as they were marked for Gwen's eyes only. She logged on to her PC and checked the emails, pleased to find replies to some of her requests for additional scanning to locate the new signals. These she printed out and took into the workshop. Alonso was looking dreamily off into space and jerked awake when he saw her, blushing prettily. She wondered what Jack had said to the boy then decided she didn't want to know. There was no sign of Kevin.

"Where's Kevin?"

"In the bathroom." The blush had deepened and the boy looked away again.

"I'll wait for him then. How's your project going?"

She walked over to workstation four and sat at the desk Jack had used for just a couple of days; it seemed much longer and she suddenly missed him. Alonso sat facing her, the two desks separating them were covered with notepads, scraps of paper with scribbles and equations on them and the weirdest collection of equipment Gwen had seen for a long time. Used to Toshiko, Jack and even Kevin's neatness when handling equipment, the complicated and messy mass of wires and scanners attached to a laptop looked very Heath Robinson.

"I'm getting some early results."

"This is from your scans of the atmosphere?"

"Uh-huh. I'm analysing the spread of crestinoni all around the planet and comparing these to what we have on file. That way I can see where there have been changes and if there are any unusual depletions or concentrations."

"I can understand the depletions, that would be where these drug makers have taken it, but concentrations?"

"It's a very small part of the atmosphere, around 0.03 of 1%. Much easier to mine if it's in one place." He was more at ease now and his blush was receding as he spoke of his work. "I expect they seeded the atmosphere to bring it together."

"I see." She looked over at the sound of footsteps behind her and saw Kevin. "Let me know when you've got some firm results. I need to talk to Kevin about the signals now, care to join us?"

"Okay." He smiled brightly, pleased at being included.

"Kevin," she called, standing and walking over to join him, "I've got some replies to our requests." She brandished the papers in her hand. "Can we plot them on the map?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've got it set up in the boardroom."

"Excellent."

The three of them had just left the workshop when Lois came into the corridor from Reception. "Oh, Gwen, there you are. I have Jack on the weblink for you."

"Great timing. Put him through to the boardroom and then come and join us."

The boardroom table held three neat piles of papers and a large map of the world as well as a dirty coffee mug. It was the first time Kevin had worked anywhere other than the workshop and Gwen welcomed it. The current emergency was bringing him out of his shell to become a real part of the team. She handed him the papers and stared at the plasma screen. It remained blank for several seconds then went fuzzy and finally a picture of Jack appeared.

"Jack, hi. You're up early." It was not quite 10.00 and Texas was six hours behind the UK.

"You know me, couldn't wait to see you and hear your lovely Welsh accent again."

"Yeah, right! I've got some of the replies from the Network. Kevin and Alonso are plotting them now."

"So I see. Hi, guys." Jack waved when they looked up. The whole of the Torchwood building was linked by various camera and CCTV circuits to facilitate electronic communications

"Hello again, Jack," called Alonso with a secret grin.

"Hello, handsome." Jack's smile became a definite leer.

"Okay, that's enough of that," put in Gwen with a laugh. "Oh, and here's Lois. Take some notes please, love," she said with a smile. "Now, Jack, I worked out what's at the centre of these signals. Us!"

"Maybe. It's a bit too soon to be sure but it's certainly centred on the Greenwich Meridian." Jack was serious once more. He was sitting at a small table on the porch of the cabin and it was dark and quiet all around.

"Lois came up with something about that." Gwen smiled at her as she pulled out a chair and sat down. "The sightings of the supposed Virgin Mary have all been along the Meridian."

Jack looked puzzled. "What sightings?"

"Oh, that's right, you haven't been back long enough to hear about those. Over the past two or three months there have been a number of sightings centred at Knock, Lourdes and Abeche. Personally I think it's likely to be a load of bunkum but Rome is taking it very seriously and the other Churches are interested. Anyway, Lois is getting all the details together now; the sightings have caused quite a stir." She broke off when Kevin tried to attract her attention. "Kevin has something."

"Sorry to interrupt, ma'am, Captain. I have rough positions for two of the signals."

Gwen waited but Kevin said nothing. "And they are?" she prompted.

"Western Australia, possibly near the coast, and Tierra del Fuego or the Falkland Islands. Bit difficult to be sure on that one, the British Antarctic Survey's scanners are limited."

"Did you get that, Jack?" Gwen was on her feet again, looking at the map.

"What about the other one?" Jack asked, making notes as he spoke.

"We've not heard from Russia or China yet, sir, so I can't be sure. The Indian reading suggests it's coming from northern China, Mongolia or Siberia," said Kevin.

"That's an enormous area. Even bigger than here." Jack sat back looking thoughtful. "Why nothing from Russia and China? Are they holding back?"

Gwen answered him. "It's possible but it's probably bureaucracy holding things up. I'll chase them up soon as we're finished. How's it going with your search?"

"We've narrowed it down to Lake Fork, seventy miles east of Dallas near a town called Yantis. We're bunked down in a couple of holiday cabins nearby – very snug! – and will be going out to take a look at first light, that's in about another four hours or so. Should give us an idea what we're dealing with."

"So we hold off on the two signals we have identified?"

"For now. We should have something definite by late afternoon your time. Keep chasing the Russians and Chinese and let me know what you find. No more popped up overnight?"

"No, Captain," confirmed Kevin.

"Good. I think we've more than enough to be going on with." Jack paused and glanced through his notes. "Can you send me the latest on the signals and all you've got on those sightings? I'd like to get up to speed on it all."

"I'll see to it," put in Lois.

"Thanks. I think that's all from my end."

"How are you and Selwyn getting on?" asked Gwen. Adding, with a smile, "And are Hi and Lo looking after you?"

"Oh yeah," laughed Jack. "No sense of humour, our FBI friends, not like when J Edgar was around, but they're okay. Selwyn's snoring, has been for hours."

"Make sure you update them," warned Gwen. In the past, Jack had been renowned for his secretive ways.

"I will. I'll leave you get on while I look through this stuff. I'll call again when we have more."

"Do that. Be careful. Bye."

"Bye." Jack waved and closed the link.

-ooOoo-

_Texas_

Lake Fork fishermen rise at all hours and no one thought it odd that four men were manhandling a small rigid boat into the water at 8.00 that morning. None of them were very skilled and the boat's sides were scraped in more than one place before it settled on the gentle waves. They were dressed as casually as they could manage but they still looked different to the others using the lake, especially as they had no fishing gear with them. A laptop has never been known to catch a fish.

Jack took charge of the expedition and put Hiram and Selwyn in the bow with Lorenzo, even more out of place than the rest, on the centre seat, taking the stern and therefore control of the outboard motor himself. The motor came to life and Jack opened the throttle, slowly at first and then wider as they moved away from the ramp. It was a bright, sunny day but chilly once they got moving. The area of lake they were traversing was empty of other boats and they were free to meander among the islands as they tried to home in on the signal.

Up in the bow, Selwyn had the laptop open directing Jack by hand movements and shouts. "Too far," he called back. "Slow down and go over that way again." He pointed to the largest island.

"That's Birdwell Island," said Hiram consulting a map of the lake folded small so as not to blow around. "There's a building on it."

"Keep going forward. Almost there." Selwyn had eyes only for the screen. "Immediately ahead."

"Gotta be that island then," confirmed Jack, the engine throttled back to a crawl. "I'll find somewhere to land."

He took the boat around the island another couple of hundred of metres until he spotted sloping shingle that would do as a landing spot. He made the approach very carefully and very slowly. When the bow touched the shingle and Selwyn had grabbed an overhanging tree branch, he cut the engine. They waded ashore through shallow water and pulled the boat well up after them, tying it securely to the trunk of a live oak.

"Let's go take a look," said Jack with a grin. He took the laptop and set off along a faint path which terminated next to the building Hiram had mentioned. "What's this then?" he mused. The building was four metres square with one window of reinforced glass up near the roof. The door was warped and padlocked.

Lorenzo examined the locks. "Rusted solid. No one's been in this way for years."

"According to this, it's an electrical station." Selwyn was reading the weathered and rotting board almost hidden by vegetation.

"A power source." Jack was now using his wrist strap scanner but getting conflicting results. He moved off down the side of the building.

"Lo, nip back to the boat and get that box of tools. We may need them," ordered Hiram.

"Okay." The man set off back down the path, soon lost to view among the trees.

Selwyn and Hiram followed Jack and found him standing looking down at a cone that clearly did not belong in this place. It was a metre high and linked to the building by wires, heavily insulated wires. Two blue lights shone steadily above a small display with several keys beneath.

"Is that it, what we've been looking for?" asked Selwyn.

"Oh yeah." Jack was still scanning, using his wrist strap and the laptop.

"Doesn't look much." Hiram crouched down to look more closely.

"They never do," sighed Jack, closing the cover of his wrist strap with a snap. "I'm going to take a closer look. You two stay well back. Any sign of Lo yet? I might need those tools."

"I'll check," volunteered Selwyn. He could add nothing here and would rather do something useful.

The walk through the trees was very pleasant and Selwyn studied the trees and bushes, most of them of a type unknown him, and stopped a couple of times to admire the view across the water to the south and north shores of this branch of the lake. All the time he was expecting to meet Lorenzo coming the other way but he got to the shingle slope without seeing hide nor hair of him. He stopped, hands on hips, and looked around. The boat was in the same place, pulled out of the water well up on the little landing place as the four men had wanted to make sure it was secure.

"Lorenzo," he called. "Lorenzo!"

He walked to left and right of the landing place still calling but saw and heard nothing of the FBI agent. He ended up back at the boat. Thinking he must have missed him on the path, though unsure how that was possible, he was about to turn back when he remembered the tools. They were not in the boat. Assuming they were with Lorenzo, he turned to go back when his eye caught a flash of yellow in the undergrowth. The plastic tool box was lying on its side half-hidden near the water's edge. He grabbed it and pulled it out. Some instinct told him that all was not well and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He backed away from the water onto the path as fast as he could go and thereby saved his life.

A thick, black sinuous body at least two metres long emerged from the water with startling speed and struck at Selwyn. He saw the long forked tongue flicking out of a small mouth as the creature came at him. Acting on instinct he brought the substantial tool box round and clouted the creature on the side of the 'head'. It recoiled and retreated, giving Selwyn time to run further back into the trees. He stopped long enough to see the creature slither into the lake. It was then the body of Lorenzo Correlli appeared out of the water to float face down. Selwyn ran down the path as fast as his long legs would carry him.

Hiram looked up at the sound of running feet and a body crashing through the undergrowth. "What the heck?" He stood up in time to see a wild-eyed Selwyn hare out of the trees and throw himself with his back against the solid wall of the building. "What is it?" demanded the FBI agent.

"A … a thing … Creature. Came out … of the lake." Selwyn gulped in more air. "Tried to kill … me. Lo's dead … In the lake."

"What did you say!" Hiram, gun in hand, had been checking the surroundings for danger but now stood staring at Selwyn in shock.

Jack was also on his feet. He had examined the cone minutely without touching it or disturbing the controls, running a number of scans and taking photographs. He had a good idea what it was programmed to do. Why it was programmed that way was a question he couldn't yet answer but he was starting to formulate a theory.

"Selwyn, take deep breaths." He put his hands on the man's upper arms and met his frightened gaze. "Tell us again. What happened to you?"

Gulping in air, Selwyn told them all that he done, all that he had seen and most importantly all about the creature that had attacked him and, he presumed, already killed Lorenzo Correlli.

"Is the boat okay?" asked Jack.

"Yes. It's where we left it." Selwyn was gazing steadily into Jack's deep blue eyes and some of his courage returned. "You don't think they could … take it, do you?"

"I have no idea. But let's not take any chances." Jack closed the laptop and made to leave. "Let's move."

"What about that?" asked Hiram, gesturing to the cone with his Sig Sauer. His professional training was once more to the fore and he was trying hard to bank down grief for the loss of his partner.

"We leave it. For now. Better if no one knows we've been here." Jack led the way down the path, striding out with Selwyn sticking close to him. Hiram was only half a pace behind them both. "Careful," warned Jack when they approached the shingle slope. The white and red bulk of the boat could be seen between the tree branches.

"It didn't reach this far," said Selwyn, peering anxiously towards the water.

"But we have to go down the slope," pointed out Hiram. He had climbed onto a low branch to scan the water, swallowing convulsively when he saw the black shape of his partner's body floating fifteen metres off shore. "Dear God, he is dead," he whispered.

"This is what we do." Jack got the other two men's attention. "We push the boat into the water as fast as possible. Half way down, when we've got some momentum, Selwyn gets in and positions himself at the motor. You need to be ready to fire her up. Hiram and I'll get in as soon as we hit water. Got it?" The others nodded, both keen to get off the island. "Then let's go."

The plan almost worked. Hiram threw himself aboard as the boat started to float but Jack took another second or two to push it further away from shore. He was knocked over by the creature that reared up out of nowhere and they both disappeared beneath the water.

* * *

_What has happened to Jack? Will Selwyn and Hiram get away? All will be revealed in the next chapter._


	15. Chapter 11

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Eleven

_Cardiff_

The October afternoon was wet and miserable and at 15.00 it was almost totally dark. The wind had got up too and lashed rain against the window of Gwen's office. Not that she noticed. Hunched over her keyboard she was re-writing the notification she intended to send to the Network concerning the worldwide signals. The technical details supplied by Kevin were contained in an annex, her job was to write a concise and yet detailed covering paper which included all the salient points but did not give rise to unnecessary alarm. It was difficult and this was her fourth attempt. Selwyn usually wrote these documents and she missed his skill with words almost as much as she missed the presence of the man himself. The offices felt empty without him.

Gwen's day had been one long slog through documents – paper and electronic – from beginning to end. Her eyes hurt and she had the beginning of a headache. She couldn't wait to get home and put her feet up but had the feeling that that time was a long way off. After the briefing in the morning, she had sped through the day-to-day work and spent an hour on the phone with officials in Russia and China chasing up their scan results. An urgent call from UNIT about a find in Bridgend had taken the rest of the morning and she had eventually had to send Kevin out there to assist even though she wanted him on hand in the office. Lunch had been taken on the run before her scheduled call with the Defence Minister, a gasbag who had gone on and on about co-operation. Finally free of him, she had turned her attention to writing the paper for the Network.

"Thought you might like a coffee," said Lois as she walked into the office. "And a little treat." She put down the mug and a plate containing a large iced bun.

"Thanks, love." Gwen flopped back in her chair. "Everything all right out there?"

"Fine. Kevin phoned, he's on his way back with the artefact. Some kind of warhead apparently."

"Dangerous?" Gwen did not like having weapons in the office, it didn't have the same levels of protection as the Hub.

"No, it's been disarmed. Kevin wants to study it." Lois was emptying Gwen's out-tray as she spoke. There were folders and papers for filing as well as some typing to be done.

"Good." Gwen sipped her coffee and wondered whether to take something for her headache. "Alonso okay?"

"He's in seventh heaven," she laughed. "He's had his head down for the past few hours correlating his scan results with the alien monitoring data for the past year. He's muttering and making copious notes and barely noticed when I left his coffee."

"He's going through all that data? I don't envy him." Data was collected on a regional basis by nominated countries who uploaded it into the Network's database for use by any and all members as required. Over the past year it had grown into an enormous mass of information that was hard to access; dealing with it was one of the topics for discussion at the upcoming Foreign Ministers' meeting.

"Like I said, he's enjoying it. Will you be wanting to look through the Mary sightings later?" She indicated the fat file sitting on the side of Gwen's desk where Lois had placed it that morning.

"I'm not sure. Depends if we get anything on the signals. Or if Jack and Selwyn call." She smiled apologetically. "Sorry, it may have to wait until tomorrow."

"I understand. Still nothing from the Russians then?"

"Not last time I checked." Sitting forward again, Gwen opened up the main email account. "The Chinese have replied." She clicked on the print icon. As the printer clattered into life another email popped into the inbox. "And now here's the Russians. Better late than never." She opened the email and saw that as well as the technical data there was a two page covering memo demanding more information. Her heart sank. She printed the whole email. "How long 'til Kevin gets back?"

"He said about half an hour."

"Soon as he arrives send him to me. We've got to get these plotted. In the meantime, I'll try and placate the Russians." She pulled a face and bit into the bun, needing the sugar rush.

"I'll tell him." Lois left the room, deciding to use her desk at Reception so Kevin couldn't slip in unnoticed.

Left alone in her room, Gwen read through the email from Vasili Karenchenko of the FSB. His concerns were the same as those expressed by the other countries Torchwood had contacted about the signals: what had been found, did it pose a risk to local and/or planet-wide security, when was she going to provide a Network briefing? The Russian's language was imperious but that was nothing new; all communications from the FSB were couched in those terms. Vasili himself was a friend and she recognised that the memo had been written with one eye on his superiors. She decided to call him to discuss the position wishing she'd been able to get hold of him earlier when she'd been forced to speak to his deputy. If the signal was originating from Russia, she'd need Vasili's cooperation.

-ooOoo-

_Texas_

"Jack! Jack!" Selwyn had called the name many times in the five minutes since Harkness had been pulled under the surface of Lake Fork by the alien creature. He knew it was pointless but he couldn't seem to stop.

"He's gone." Hiram's tone was blunt. "We have to get Lorenzo and head back. We need to alert the local authorities." He was fingering the mobile phone in his pocket, wanting to seek help but refraining until he had more to tell them.

"He's not gone! This is Jack Harkness we're talking about. Nothing kills him."

The two men were in the boat keeping station five metres or so from Birdwell Island. The creature had not followed them out this far but they were taking no chances, keeping watch on the water all around. Nothing had stirred since Jack had been pulled under. A further ten metres out in the Lake floated the body of Lorenzo Correlli, Hiram's partner, who they presumed had been killed by the creature that now had Jack.

"You sure about that? I mean, that's what everyone says but …" He shrugged in disbelief.

"It's true." Selwyn stopped scanning the shoreline and focussed on Hiram. "Jack was blown up during the 456 threat." No need to tell the FBI man that it had been the UK Government that had wanted Jack neutralised. "All that was left was a few bits and pieces, barely 5% of a body."

Hiram stared, appalled. "You mean …"

"I mean Jack's body regrew. I've seen the tapes." Selwyn swallowed, remembering the awful images and the screams. "We wait here for him and then we decide what to do." Pushing aside his diplomatic training, he laid down the law and his tone brooked no arguments.

Hiram turned his stare from Selwyn, trying to adjust to this new information, and his gaze alighted on the body of his partner and friend. "Let's at least get Lo."

"Sure."

Selwyn steered the boat across to rest close to the body. Taking care in case the creature was nearby, Hiram used a fish hook which had come with the boat to snag Lorenzo's belt and pull him alongside. He dragged the body partly out of the water and with Selwyn's help pulled it on board. They laid it in the bottom of the boat and Hiram made a quick inspection but found nothing to indicate cause of death. This all took ten minutes or so and they were about to return to their previous position when, with a gentle plop, the body of Jack Harkness rose to the surface three metres away, between the boat and the island.

"There he is," called Selwyn, turning the boat in that direction. Once alongside, they repeated the manoeuvre with this body and laid it out beside Lorenzo. "I wonder how long it takes?"

"For what?"

"For him to come round again." Selwyn bit his lip and watched anxiously but Jack just lay there, white and dead. "Do you think I should do CPR?"

"Don't ask me." Hiram sank back on the bench seat and rested his chin in his hands. "Shouldn't we get back?"

"I don't know. I'm going to call Gwen, she'll know what to do." He got out his mobile and pressed Gwen's speed dial waiting impatiently as the connection was made and it began to ring at the other end.

"_Cooper." _

"Gwen, it's Selwyn. I can't explain but Jack's dead. Drowned. Should I do anything to make him come round?"

"_He's dead! What happened?"_

"I'll explain later! Do I give him CPR or something?"

Gwen quickly recovered from the unexpected news. "_No, leave him alone. If he's drowned it'll probably be five or ten minutes before he resurrects. Make sure you're with him."_ Images of previous deaths flashed before her eyes and in most of them she also saw Ianto waiting patiently for Jack to come back to them.

"Okay, I'll wait. Thanks." Without thinking about what he was doing, Selwyn ended the call.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

"Damn!"

Gwen stared at the phone, irritated that Selwyn had cut her off without explaining what was happening. She dropped the mobile on the desk and took a couple of deep breaths. Jack had drowned so they must have gone onto that lake he had told them about. But what had they found? Had they been attacked? Was the signal affected? She grabbed the mobile again and pressed the speed dial then cancelled it before it had made the connection. Better not to distract them, Selwyn had sounded frazzled enough. Turning back to her desk, she opened the file about the Mary sightings but her mind refused to concentrate. When Kevin appeared at her door five minutes later, she closed the file and jumped up grateful for the distraction.

"Lois said you wanted me, ma'am." Kevin's army trousers and top were soaked from the rain that still battered against the window. Partly dried mud caked both knees and shins. His hair was plastered to his head.

"Yes, we've got the bearings from Russia and China. But you need to shower and change, I can't have you getting ill."

"I'm all right, ma'am. It won't take a moment to plot the information."

"Well …" Gwen was torn. She didn't want Kevin to get a chill but she did want to know the location of that last signal. Her decision was helped when Lois bustled up with a towel in her hand.

"Here, Kevin, dry your hair at least. He needs to get into some dry clothes," she said to Gwen, seeking her support.

"I know. But if it will only take a moment to plot this last lot of info … I've put them in the boardroom."

Lois did not look happy but she gave in. "Quick then, Kevin. Then a shower."

The three of them went to the boardroom where Kevin assessed the information provided by Russia and China and plotted it on the map. "It's coming from Siberia or Mongolia," he reported after a few minutes. He placed his pen on a point on the map.

"Thank you. Just one more thing, can you check if the signal from Texas has changed?"

"Of course." He went to the open laptop. "I can access it from here." He pressed a few keys. "No, ma'am, just the same."

"Good. Now, go and get changed, love," said Gwen with a smile. "We'll talk again then."

Kevin turned a little pink – he was unused to being called 'love' by his boss – and hung his head before shuffling out of the room. Squelching his way into the workshop, he stopped long enough to deposit the warhead in the safe before going to the showers. All the Torchwood personnel kept spare clothes in lockers for emergencies and after a hot shower, Kevin emerged in clean and dry trousers and shirt. Alonso remained at his workstation head bent over his work and Kevin walked past him and out into the offices. He found Gwen still in the boardroom, sitting with her feet up on a chair staring into space and twisting a pen round and round in her fingers like a majorette's baton. He cleared his throat.

Shaken from her reverie, Gwen looked up. Her thoughts had been in Texas, wondering what was happening there. Were Jack and Selwyn okay? She itched to call them but resisted; they'd phone her as soon as they could. "That's better," she said with a smile. "Now tell me about this warhead you found."

-ooOoo-

_Texas_

With a gasp and a jerk, Jack Harkness returned to life as he had many times before. He looked around frantically and spotted a face he knew. It wasn't the face he had hoped to see – that face was gone for ever – but at least this one was familiar. Beneath him the boat rocked with his sudden movement and Jack's questing hand found something to hold on to.

"Jack! Oh thank god." Selwyn was immensely relieved that Jack was alive once more and intrigued about the process. One minute he was dead and the next he was alive. It was incredible.

Beside him Hiram Wendover watched in astonishment, his mouth hanging open. Being told Jack could not die had not prepared him for the sight of the man coming back to life. He still wasn't sure he believed it even though he had seen it for himself. Hiram just wished the other dead body would resurrect in the same way. The loss of Lorenzo Correlli was weighing heavily on him, especially as he had done nothing about it. People needed to be told.

Blinking in the sunshine, Jack eased himself up to sit on one of the bench seats. His clothes clung to him uncomfortably and he wrung out his shirt, not that it made much difference. As his heart resumed its normal rhythm he looked around and realised they were still on Lake Fork, that Hiram and Selwyn were alive and that Lorenzo was not. He sighed when he saw the body lying at his feet.

Selwyn was talking, unable to keep quiet. "You were taken, Jack. The creature appeared out of nowhere and took you under. You were down for at least fifteen minutes then you popped up, just like that. Are you all right? I mean, really all right? I was really worried about you. We both were."

"Stop gabbling. I'm fine. Now, we need to get back to shore." Jack managed a smile for the others. "Hiram, I'm sorry about Lorenzo."

"Thanks. I'll inform the sheriff and the local field office, get them out here to catch those … things."

"Not yet." Jack put out a hand and rested it on Hiram's arm. "We need to work out our next move first." The two men's gazes met. "I know what it's like to lose someone and I appreciate your pain. But let's make sure his death leads to something positive."

Hiram paused then reluctantly agreed. "I guess."

The boat scraped against the landing ramp as Selwyn brought it in. Hiram drove the SUV down to the water's edge and they loaded the boat onto the trolley with Lorenzo's body still inside covered by a tarpaulin. They drove in silence back to the cabins and backed the boat trolley into the carport, shielding it with the SUV. Jack and Hiram carried the body into the FBI men's cabin and turned the air conditioning up high: the colder the cabin the better. The three of them went to the other cabin where Jack quickly showered and changed, wandering around naked as he did so. With a mug of coffee made by Selwyn, Hiram sat motionless in an easy chair.

"Okay, let's decide what to do now," said Jack, opening the laptop that Selwyn had kept safe. "The cone is the source of the signal and it's reasonable to assume that it's the same set up for the other three. We now know what we're looking for. That display on the cone, if we can decipher it, should give us the time the countdown ends and where."

"How were the cones put there? I can't see those creatures doing it." Selwyn was sitting forward in his chair, peering at the laptop's screen where Jack was running through the photographs he had taken.

"No, I think they're guard dogs. Whoever's behind this probably used someone dispensable to set this up."

"Guard dogs?" queried Hiram, forcing himself to concentrate on the problems before them.

"You said they operated in a limited area close to the island. Which means, of course, that the other cones will be near water too." Jack continued to look through the images and scans he had taken. "We have to get to those cones – fast! We'll need readings from all four to work out where and when, whatever it is, is going to happen. We'd better talk to Gwen about that."

"Umm, I did ring her earlier," admitted Selwyn. "I wasn't sure what to do … about you being dead."

"I bet she loved that." He grinned. "Right, let's call Gwen," said Jack checking the clock. It was 10.26 which made it 16.26 in Cardiff; she would still be at the office. Using the web-link in the communications laptop, he made the connection. "Hey," he said when she appeared on their screen, "howdy from Texas."

"You're all right then, Jack," she said with a relieved smile. "Selwyn, don't ever cut me off like that again!"

"No time for that, Gwen. We need to talk travel arrangements."

* * *

_Next time, the team begin to disperse around the world ..._


	16. Chapter 12

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twelve

_Cardiff_

Daniel Rhys Williams was being difficult. Normally a placid baby – he took after his father in nature if not in looks – he had sensed Rhys was stressed and that had upset him. In the two hours since Rhys had picked him up from the child minder, Daniel had dirtied two nappies, been sick on a clean Babygro and grizzled constantly. For the past ten minutes it had been a soft, penetrating wail that pierced the heart of his doting Dad.

"Danny, please, sweetheart," said Rhys, coming over to the chair and setting it rocking. "Be a good boy for Daddy." He mopped the dribbly chin and thrust a teething ring into the boy's clammy hand.

Not about to be placating by a piece of coloured plastic, Daniel dropped the ring into the chair and carried on crying. He was six months' old and had learnt that his parents would pick him up and cuddle him if he cried long and loud enough. He was surprised it was taking so long.

"You'll just have to cry," said Rhys, hardening his heart. "It's your mother's fault. She's late." At that moment he heard her key in the front door. "At last. What kept you, Gwen?" he called, going back to finish unloading the drier; if they didn't get the washing done the baby would soon run out of clean clothes. With Gwen working longer hours these past few days, Rhys had been taking up the slack but he couldn't have any more time off work, it had been difficult enough taking the day before.

"What's up with Daniel? Can't you hear him?" demanded Gwen, coming into the kitchen/diner. Her bag and attaché case were dumped and she went immediately to her son. "Wass up, sweetheart?" she crooned, undoing the straps and picking Daniel up.

"He's been making that noise for the past half hour. And I've only got one pair of hands." Folding a towel, Rhys turned round and said, "Oh, hello. Didn't know you were here too."

"Easier for him to follow me home," said Gwen, cuddling her son who was calming down having got his way at last. "He's still not very good at finding his way around, right, Alonso?"

"Uh-huh." He was standing just inside the door, dressed in jeans, collarless shirt and denim jacket. The latter two were new, bought with Lois' help that lunchtime. "We still on for the drink?"

"Damned right we are! Not giving up my boys' night out for anything." He stopped unloading the machine to look at Gwen. "Nothing's happened, has it?"

"No, you're all right, you can go and get lathered up with Banana and Daf. I'm looking forward to the peace and quiet." She looked over at Alonso. "Don't stand there. Come in and sit down for a bit."

"Can I hold the baby?" he asked with a hopeful smile. "I know about them."

"Oh … well … all right." She handed over her precious baby, keeping a careful watch on him and took off her jacket.

"Why are you so late?" asked Rhys.

"Few new developments. We've got a better idea where those signals are coming from and what they're doing. Jack found the one in Texas." Gwen had no qualms about sharing the knowledge with Rhys, he had proved he could be trusted in too many ways to count, but she was not going to say anything about Lorenzo Correlli's death. "We need to get to the others now."

"Why? And where are they?"

"There's a display on the … thing that's giving out the signal. Jack needs to get the readings from each so he can calculate where and when whatever it is they're doing is going to happen." She broke off to smile at Alonso, sitting on the couch with Daniel in the crook of his arm. The baby was staring up as Alonso made baby talk. "And they couldn't be further away! Siberia, Australia and the Falklands, would you believe!"

"Blimey." Rhys stopped what he was doing for a moment and his expression became stern. "Who's going? And it better not be you, Gwen," he said vehemently.

"It's not, I'm more use here. Selwyn's off to Australia, he's flying out tonight. Jack's going to Russia, which is just asking for trouble but there's no one else and they know him, and Kevin's got the short straw. An RAF flight down to the Falklands, poor sod."

The discussion with Jack and the others in Texas had lasted the best part of an hour as they updated her on what had happened to them and what they had found. Gradually a plan had emerged - though most of the details still had to be worked out - which necessitated sending people all round the world. Gwen had argued against people going it alone, standing up to Jack like in the old days and getting her way when no one else would have done. Once the call had ended, the Torchwood team had been busy for nearly two hours: Lois booking complicated flights and connections for Selwyn and Jack; Gwen releasing the notification around the Network and liaising with Vasili Karenchenko in Russia, the ASIO in Australia and MOD to provide backup for her people; Kevin bringing Alonso up to date on how to monitor the signals and building himself a laptop to track them.

When calls and emails had started coming in from other members of the Network in response to the notification, Gwen had packed up and called it a day; let them wait. She was planning a quiet night caring for Daniel although she had brought home the file on the Mary sightings which she still hadn't read. Lois had left at the same time and Alonso had followed Gwen home ready for his night out. Only Kevin was still at the office, finishing off his laptop, but with strict instructions to get home at a reasonable hour. His flight left RAF Brize Norton, Oxfordshire, at 9.00 the following day full of soldiers beginning a tour of duty in the Islands. It would be a long haul with an overnight stop. Not for the first time, Gwen wished they had working teleports. Perhaps if Toshiko was still around they would have had them by now.

Having been good for ten minutes, quite taken by the new person holding him, Daniel decided that it was time to announce his presence again. He screwed up his face and cried, even managing a few crocodile tears.

"He'll be hungry," said Rhys, picking up the washing basket. "I'll take these upstairs and get ready. I said we'd meet the lads at eight."

"Come on, now," said Alonso to Daniel, standing up and jiggling him expertly. "Dinner's on the way."

Gwen had found the bottle, already made up, and put it in the microwave. "Won't be a minute. Let's put this on him." She took a bib that was only slightly stained from the side and tied it round the baby's neck. "Don't let Rhys and the others make you drink too much tonight," she warned Alonso. "They like to think they're lads about town but they're really a sad bunch who like to kid themselves. A few pints each and a curry is their lot."

Alonso laughed, amused at Gwen's motherly lecture. "Don't worry, I've done my share."

"I expect you have if you've been hanging round Jack," she said with feeling.

-ooOoo-

_Texas_

The afternoon was still warm and sunny when Selwyn left Yantis bound for Dallas. His flight left at 20.30 for Los Angeles where he'd barely have time to make his connection for Melbourne and then the onward flight to Perth. He was not looking forward to over twenty hours in the air, two connections and losing a day when he crossed the International Date Line but was resigned to it. With him he had his case, the laptop which Jack had modified yet again to track down the signal and a notebook full of detailed instructions about how to use it and what to do when he found the cone. He wasn't looking forward to his assignment – he knew his technical limitations – and was relieved to know that Mark Tang, the ASIO contact in Western Australia, would be there to help.

Jack, who wasn't leaving until the following morning, watched him go then turned to the neighbouring cabin where a firm of undertakers was removing the body of Lorenzo Correlli. Hiram stood by the vehicle, a station wagon with blacked out windows, and bowed his head as the body was rolled inside. Beside him stood Carl Kember, a local FBI agent who, with his partner Janine Rubayo, currently driving Selwyn to the airport, had been called in earlier in the day. The back of the wagon closed and the attendants climbed in and drove away. Hiram looked up and caught Jack's eye, hesitated and then came across to join him.

"I don't like this."

"I know." Jack waited, deciding he had said enough already. Hiram was never going to be happy that they were not releasing news of Lorenzo's death immediately but had accepted, however reluctantly, that it was necessary if the operation to stop the people behind the signals achieving their goal was to succeed.

"His family deserve to know."

"Just a couple of days, Hi, that's all we need. And that delay could save a lot of people."

Hiram's narrowed his eyes, for once not hidden behind sunglasses, and stared intently into Jack's eyes. "You know something you're not sharing?" he demanded.

"No, just got an idea or two." He saw Hiram's expression change to belligerence and hastily added, "Which I'm happy to share. You need to know anyway. Why don't we go down to the lake and clear our heads? Carl too."

After considering this for a moment, the FBI man agreed. "Okay."

They drove through the darkening evening to a viewing point on a different part of Lake Fork from the one where they had been that morning. No need to rake up painful memories. Carl, a lanky Texan who looked like he should be wearing chaps and rounding up cattle, listened carefully as his companions spoke. He and his partner had been surprised when they got the call from Hiram, initially because he was operating in their area without telling them but then at the tale he had to tell. Aliens did not normally visit Texas and to find they had some on their doorstep was hard to credit.

"I believe something is coming," said Jack, sitting on a bench with his arms crossed on the table. He was talking conversationally and Hiram, sitting beside him, had to concentrate to hear him. "Something wants to get here, to Earth, and is going to a lot of trouble to do it which rather implies that we'd be better off if it never arrived."

"How do the signals do that?"

"Not sure but …" Jack bit a lip as he sorted his thoughts. Saying them out loud was helping to organise feelings, impressions and half-remembered information into a coherent whole. "I think the signals might … open a door."

"I thought the Rift was a door."

"A very unpredictable one! The other end shifts about, at least I've always imagined it does, and may not visit the same place twice. No, this is someone who wants a more controllable link between us and … wherever it is at the moment. Perhaps a permanent one," he added as the idea occurred to him for the first time.

Carl, sitting on the bench facing them, said, "That sounds bad."

"Oh yeah," smiled Jack. "Permanent means lots and lots of people coming. Armies. Refugees. Prisoners. Could be any or all of the above."

"But the sightings of the Virgin Mary have something to do with it," suggested Hiram. The US media had picked up on these and was largely sceptical until the recent announcements from the Vatican giving support. Nearly a quarter of US citizens were Catholics and no media outlet was about to ignore that many readers. "That's what Gwen believes, right?"

"We don't know. It's possible, no more than that right now. However," he looked at both FBI agents, "if it is, don't expect this to be a religious experience. From the data I've seen those sightings are shadows, precursors, call them what you will, of aliens. And I doubt they'd go to all this trouble if they just wanted to say 'hi'."

The three men fell silent thinking about this. It was now past seven in the evening and dark beyond the circle of light from the overhead lamps which illuminated the viewing area. A dozen picnic tables and benches were scattered around and five were occupied. On the lake spread out before them were boats with fishermen hoping for one last bite before they called it a day. One was already making its way to the jetty at the far right of the area. Ten minutes or so later Jack and the others were going over the plans for the next few days one more time, when there was a shout from one of the three fishermen getting their boat out of the water.

"Help! Something's got me!" The man was splashing around in the water before he was pulled backwards and fell in completely.

"Those things!" cried Hiram, momentarily frozen to the spot as he recalled the black snake-creatures around Birdwell Island. Jack was on his feet and running to the well-lit jetty with Carl on his heels. They raced up to the boat, Hiram belatedly following them.

"What is it?" asked Jack, taking in the scene. The man in the water was back on his feet, supported by one of his companions. The other fisherman was behind them, hitting at something just under the water with a boat hook.

"Turtle," called up one of them, grinning. "Grabbed Ramon by the ass!"

After a particularly vicious swipe with the hook, the alligator snapping turtle let go and surfaced for a moment. It was large, about a metre long and the same across with a hard shell and knobbly hide covering exposed head and legs. Its mouth was more than thirty centimetres wide and was, at that moment, open and snapping at the hapless Ramon.

"What the heck's that?" exclaimed Hiram in wonder, staring at the ugly creature.

"Local wildlife," drawled Carl with a grin. It was clear no one was seriously injured. Ramon and his helper were wading to shore while the other man, still holding the boat hook at the ready, watched the thwarted turtle swim away.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

With the house to herself, Gwen revelled in the quiet. Daniel, after being fed, had settled down for a nap and she had changed into old tracksuit bottoms and T-shirt before heating up a cottage pie and eating it on her lap while watching _Holby City_. She didn't know the characters but it was something mindless to watch. At 21.00, she called Kevin and was pleased to find him at home; he had an early start in the morning. She spent the next hour loading the dishwasher, ironing and tidying up generally. Not for the first time, she wondered about employing someone to keep the place tidy. She and Rhys couldn't cope and it was only going to get worse as Daniel grew up. They needed to discuss it, soon. She scribbled a reminder and pinned it to the board for later.

Daniel was still sleeping peacefully in his cot when she went to check on him, pulling the light blue cover back over him. She stood watching and listening to him breathe and thanked God yet again for such a beautiful and healthy baby. His baptism was booked for the following month and she realised she'd done nothing about it. Back downstairs she opened the laptop and sent an email to immediate family and some friends with the date while keeping half an eye on the BBC News. When that ended, she turned off the television and made a coffee and settled down to read the papers she had brought home with her.

That was where Rhys found her when he blundered into the room trying to be quiet. It was close on midnight and he was pissed and happy after a night of drinking. "There she is, my little Gwennie," he slurred, planting a wet, slobbering kiss on her cheek and waking her up.

"Ugh! Get off, you daft sod." She pushed him away and struggled up. Papers fell to the floor around them.

Rhys collapsed onto the sofa with a befuddled grin on his face. "Come back here, let's cwtsh."

"No!" Running a hand through her hair, she picked up the papers. She had dropped off while reading them and had been asleep for over an hour. "Where's Alonso?"

"Going home."

"You let him drive? Twpsyn!" They had taken a taxi to the pub.

Putting the papers on the side, she went into the hall. She paused to listen for Daniel – nothing – and went out of the front door. Alonso was by the Espace sporting a gormless grin and trying, unsuccessfully, to open the door. It didn't take long to pull him back indoors to sprawl next to her husband. Leaving them to sort themselves out, she went up to Daniel. He was also sprawled out, sucking on his fingers, and awake.

"Come on, sweetheart," she whispered, picking him up, "let Mummy make you all comfy."

As she changed his nappy and then held her son, Gwen forgot all about Torchwood and signals and unexplained sightings. This was what life was all about, her beautiful son and even her drunken husband.


	17. Chapter 13

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Thirteen

_Texas_

Friday morning dawned bright and warm and Jack felt sorry to leave Yantis.

He had explored the town the night before, with the FBI agents, and liked the simplicity of the small settlement; less than 400 people lived here. Most of the population, at least the younger ones, had been at Terror Trails enjoying a good fright. Jack couldn't resist it and had dragged Hiram, Carl and Janine in. They walked slowly along the half mile trail in the dark while various sound and light effects and realistic props designed to scare had popped out and up. They were startling but not really frightening, although some youngsters had enjoyed screaming at the tops of their voices. Munching on a slice of pizza, Jack had relished being with people enjoying themselves and even the FBI agents had eventually relaxed.

But now he was leaving. As Janine Rubayo drove slowly along the wide main street, he looked out at the clapboard and brick one storey buildings set back from the road with large car parks in front of them. The Credit Union and Yantis Café were next to the Lube Shop and recently built gym. He smiled at the tiny blue-roofed City Hall, more like an Anderson shelter, beside the more impressive Masonic Lodge and behind them the large First Baptist Church. Only a couple of minutes later they had passed the volunteer Fire Department, built on the same lines as City Hall, and the community centre with the town sign displayed proudly above it. His favourite came last, the wonderfully named All Mixed Up shop. Then they were into countryside and a few residential houses before leaving the town behind.

"Guess you're pleased to be getting away from this," said Rubayo. She was a plain, black woman with strong jaw and a large nose and in her early thirties. Like all FBI agents, she gave off an aura of confidence and competence that others might find intimidating.

"No." He shifted in his seat to look at her profile. Her hair was cut in a bob that framed her face and softened her look, as did the yellow open-necked shirt and black suit trousers. The suit jacket was hanging from a hook in the back. "I like it."

"But it's such a hick town." Her voice revealed her Detroit roots and explained her dismissal of Yantis.

"That's why I like it. Concrete and glass is hard, unwelcoming, while this place has … character." He pointed out of the window. "Look at that. An old corrugated iron barn but against those trees and pasture it's just beautiful."

Janine looked at him, realised he was sincere and bit back an immediate retort. To her the barn looked like it was about to fall down and far from beautiful. They continued driving in silence, heading north on the way back to Dallas. This was the fourth time she'd made the journey in twenty four hours having taken Selwyn Agnew on the same airport run the day before and she knew every turn and roadside building. Once they hit Sulphur Springs they'd be on I30 which would take them straight into Dallas. As Jack was content to sit looking out at the scenery, she turned on the radio and soft music drifted out to fill the vehicle.

Once on the Interstate, Jack stared unseeing out of the window and went over all he had done the previous night and during the early morning hours to ensure Hiram, Carl and Janine would be able to cope with their end of this increasingly complicated situation. If all went as Jack expected, the three should have only to keep watch on Birdwell Island and intercept anyone who tried to land there. They had started their watch – Carl in a boat and Hiram onshore – when Jack left, trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. While in Dallas, Janine was going to pick up some remote monitoring equipment for better coverage so they would not have to be so near to the island. With that in place, they would be less visible and better able to apprehend and/or follow anyone who tried to get close. Jack was reasonably confident no one would and that the agents would be fine for the next couple of days.

At the same time, they were going to investigate who had placed the cone. Jack was convinced the aliens behind this were using humans for their dirty business and humans left clues even when they tried not to. Hiram was searching for reports of anyone who had been seen in the vicinity of the island or suspicious deaths. They would run down any leads this threw up and maybe they would get lucky.

Opening his laptop, Jack looked over the mass of information he had gathered on the Yantis signal and his speculations about what it and the other three signals were doing. He had identified the symbols on the display as Ouperist and thought he understood what they were doing but this didn't get them any closer to knowing who was behind it all. The signals were still transmitting, no change there, and Alonso was watching them back at base now Kevin was on his way to the Falklands. Jack clicked on another document which Lois had drawn up – a table showing where the Torchwood operatives were in relation to the various time zones: at present Selwyn was in the air en route to Melbourne and Kevin, in his RAF plane, was approaching an overnight layover on the Ascension Islands. At least they were both heading for warm climes - Jack was off to a Russia in the grip of winter. He was not looking forward to it, even his greatcoat would not be enough to keep out the icy temperatures.

During his night and the UK morning, Jack had chatted to Gwen. He was pleased with all she had done to get the three of them to their destinations. While he had no time for diplomatic niceties, he appreciated all her fast talking which had got three disparate countries firstly to allow the Torchwood personnel to enter and secondly to provide backup. They all needed the support, even Jack, if they were to find and analyse the cones emitting the signals. Gwen and Lois were now searching the Network databases for likely aliens who might use a doorway to Earth. He smiled as he remembered her enthusiasm for the task. Gwen was being inundated with queries from other members of the Network and was about to tear her hair out; she had jumped at the excuse to ignore them and look into the files. For the next few hours while he was in the air – first to Washington DC and then to Moscow – she would be on her own. Jack couldn't think of anyone else he would want in that position.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

Most days the Torchwood offices at Cardiff were similar with people going about their work with quiet purpose, occasional meetings and shared lunch and coffee breaks. This Friday was very different and Gwen was more energised than at any time since the threat from the 456. Phones rang constantly, emails arrived so fast in-boxes were overflowing and neither were answered. Gwen didn't care which was a mistake she soon came to regret.

She had started her day in a good mood. Daniel had slept through the night again and she had been undisturbed, even Rhys had stayed on the kitchen sofa where she had left him. Entering the room with the baby at 7.20, she had found Rhys snoring mightily with Alonso curled up and leaning against him. Kicking them awake, she had seen to Daniel, while the men sheepishly washed and dressed, and then made breakfast. They had all been late for work but not by much.

Once in the office, Gwen had ensured all the delicate arrangements she had made with the Australian, Russian and Falkland Island authorities were watertight. There was no point in sending her people all around the world if they were turned back, or detained, at the airport. Satisfied all was well, she had answered some of the many calls and emails before a long conversation with Jack gave her a list of more urgent things to do. Research had always been one of her strengths and she got stuck in, with Lois at her side, identifying all possible threats – there were rather too many for comfort – and then trying to sort them into the possible and the unlikely.

"What do you think of this one?" asked Lois, staring at the PC screen. They were in Gwen's office - Lois at the desk and Gwen at the small, round meeting table – surrounded by printouts and some paper files. "The Hipletical. They're advanced technologically and have shown up here before."

"How do you spell that?" Gwen searched her papers as Lois spelt it out. "Got it. Let's see … humanoid and oxygen breathers. Spiritual. Not sure about them, they only came here on an initiation rite to visit unknown places. Unlikely, I think." She replaced the papers.

"Ah, Gwen, I think you'd better see this." Alonso had poked his head round the door. "I went to get a drink and looked outside." He was in the office now standing looking out of the large window. The others turned to look out too.

"What the hell!" exclaimed Gwen. "Bloody fools!" She stormed out of the room.

"What is that thing?" asked Alonso as he and Lois followed Gwen.

"A tank. It's a UNIT tank!"

The car park was still wet after an earlier shower but Gwen strode forward ignoring the puddles. She was furious. Outside the fencing and other defences, a small UNIT tank and a jeep were parked blocking the entrance. Standing calmly with his hands behind his back like visiting royalty was Brigadier Rupert Burke-Tarkleton, head of UNIT in Wales. He was an archetypal Army officer from his cap to the toes of his shiny shoes and at that moment he was ordering his tank commander to take aim at the Torchwood gates.

"Get that ruddy thing out of here!" Gwen shouted as soon as she was near enough to be heard above the roar of the vehicle's engine. "Go on, shift it!" An imperious wave of the arm accompanied her orders.

"Ah, Ms Cooper, you are here," purred Burke-Tarkleton in his most patronising tones. "When you failed to answer your phones and emails, we feared you had been compromised." He looked past her to Lois and Alonso hovering in the building's entrance. "Unless they are holding you hostage?"

"You know damned well they're not. Now get that … that monstrosity out of here!" She had carefully maintained Torchwood's anonymity and this smarmy man was undoing all her hard work. "What do you want?" she snapped.

"A word, my dear, just a word." With an almost imperceptible nod he indicated to an aide that the tank could withdraw.

"Then you'd better come in." She turned on her heel, signalling to Lois to open the gate. Striding past Alonso, who had come out into the car park to watch the tank turn round, she went into the building. Taking her usual seat at the head of the boardroom table, she waited, drumming her fingers on the polished wood.

"Brigadier Burke-Tarkleton," announced Lois, showing in the trim uniformed man. He was followed by an aide, a lieutenant from his insignia. "I'll bring in some coffee shortly."

"Don't bother. They won't be here that long." Gwen glowered up at the Brigadier. "So, what was so important you had to come in here with all guns blazing?" she demanded.

With practiced skill, Lois slipped into the seat beside Gwen and opened a notepad ready to take notes. She tried to exude calm and efficiency to lessen Gwen's antagonism. The Welshwoman rarely lost her temper and was her own worst enemy when she did, saying and doing things she regretted later. Lois smiled at the two UNIT officers as they took their seats and wondered why they were here.

"Ms Cooper, the Network is concerned, most concerned, about your recent notification. There is a general feeling that you are holding back information vital to Earth's security." Burke-Tarkleton's tone had none of the earlier smarminess; he was being conciliatory. "Our own Government has called an emergency meeting of COBRA to consider - "

"It what!" Gwen had shot up in her seat and was leaning forward. "Why wasn't I invited?"

"You were." He paused to let the information sink in. "By email and telephone." He took a piece of paper from his aide, glanced at it then handed it across the table to Gwen. "This is a list of times."

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

"I couldn't have put it better myself," he agreed with a smile.

All of sudden the fight left Gwen. She had not anticipated this, had expected the Network to trust her and give her team time to work out what was happening. A serious miscalculation and one she had to rectify and fast. She glanced round the table and saw Lois's anxious expression and was reminded of what the British Government and others round the world had been prepared to do when threatened by the 456. They were jittery and based on past performance they were likely to go off half-cocked in the wrong direction and louse up everything. Now staring unseeing out of the window, she considered her options. First, she had to get to the COBRA meeting. Second, she needed to reassure the other countries. She envisaged days of talks and negotiations until a new approach occurred to her, one that would keep everyone busy and hopefully give Jack and the others time to get to their destinations.

"Brigadier, my apologies. Lois, find those emails and get me the Prime Minister. Soon as you can." Turning back to Burke-Tarkleton, she said, "I can assure you we are not holding back anything. My team are in the air right now on their way to gather the information we need before we can draw any conclusions from what we've found so far. Whatever they find will be shared with the Network, as we have shared what we have already uncovered. I think I know how to proceed but I'll need UNIT's help."

-ooOoo-

_In the air_

The flight to Washington DC left on time and Jack Harkness settled back in his first class seat. He had three hours on this flight then a quick, very quick, change to the United Airlines' flight to Moscow. He was going to be out of contact with Gwen and the others for nearly fifteen hours which he hated but experience had finally taught him not to fight against what he couldn't change. Consequently, he accepted the drink from the beautiful cabin attendant and gave her one of his best smiles before introducing himself.

On another plane, Selwyn Agnew was staring out of the window at the clouds beneath him. Beneath those, he knew but couldn't see, was the immense expanse of the Pacific Ocean. He had been in the air for eight and a half hours and had another seven to go before landing at Melbourne. Now he had caught up on some sleep, he had nothing to do but wait and worry. And eat the meals and snacks that were brought round regularly by the Qantas cabin crew.

On yet another flight, one far less comfortable than those enjoyed by his colleagues, Kevin Heggerty was enjoying a game of cards and a beer or two. His fellow passengers on this flight were army squaddies determined to make the most of the journey. They had another two hours in the air before arriving at Ascension Island and their enforced overnight layover. Kevin was looking forward to continuing the party all night.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

The arrangements took an hour to set up. In Cardiff, Alonso was drafted in to link the Torchwood communications system with UNIT's planet-wide network. UNIT personnel around the world tuned their receivers and passed the live feed to Governments in their sectors. Finally, at a little before 16.00 all was ready.

In the Torchwood boardroom, Gwen patted her hair and looked through the notes on her laptop one last time. Lois was beside her again, there at Gwen's insistence to help marshal the documents. On Gwen's other side sat the Brigadier, looking immaculate as always. Alonso was at the other side of the room, behind the camera, with four UNIT technicians and their equipment. The plasma screen sprang to life. It showed the interior of the Cabinet Office Briefing Room A, after which the British Government's civil emergency committee was named, and around the table were the Prime Minister, Home Secretary and various aides.

For a moment, Gwen recalled the meetings about the 456 threat on which she, Rhys, Jack and Ianto had eavesdropped - thanks to Lois – and the appalling decisions that had been made. Seeing Denise Riley, now PM, grim faced and determined merely heightened the effect. But that was the only similarity. This meeting was being broadcast around the world, at Gwen's insistence, and there would not be any secrecy about what was discussed. She just hoped it would be over in time for her to get home and put Daniel to bed.


	18. Interlude 4

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Interlude Four

No one in the village had much in the way of possessions. The country's economic prosperity had passed by this backwater and the villagers' breeze block and timber houses were crude and the rooms inside sparsely furnished. In the past generation, when some money had trickled in from sons and daughters working in the cities, the old horse-drawn carts had been replaced by vehicles which were rundown when they were bought and became more so when driven on the unpaved roads and tracks. But even the most rusty, ill-performing car gave a family an advantage when seeking work and were much prized. Only in the past decade had electronic goods become available and mobile phones and computers make an appearance.

Needless to say, Ilie Roman, the priest of The Lady, had never owned a vehicle, could not drive one even if he had. In fact he had only ridden in a vehicle a dozen times in his life. But he did own the best laptop in the village, probably the best for miles around, paid for by tithes from the priesthood around the world to their Patriarch. Only Ilie received messages from The Lady and only he held the sacred vessel. There had been one or two attempts to wrest the position away from him, mainly by the wealthy priests in the West, but he had resisted them and now his moment was coming. It was so close.

He thought all this as he packed his clothes – all he possessed which was little enough – into one small and battered cardboard suitcase. It was time for him to leave the village and prepare for the arrival of The Holy One. It was unfortunate that she was not to visit him in Romania so the other villagers could see him raised to high position. But he would return and then they would bow to him, would regret their taunts and unkindnesses. However, that was for later after he had made this journey. He went into the back room and reverently took up the cup and wrapped it in a piece of cloth while his eyes made a final check of the room. There was nothing here he needed. Placing the cup in the suitcase, firmly wedged between his spare shoes and a book of Romanian folk tales, he felt the now familiar tingle of excitement. She was coming and soon everyone, not just her loyal priests, would worship her.

A rap at the door and a shout brought him back to reality. "Ilie, you old fool, aren't you ready yet?"

"Coming, coming." Ilie hastily tied the wide leather strap round the case and put on his threadbare jacket. Opening the door, he saw Teodor was already back in the driving seat of his rusty Trabant with the engine running. Biting back a retort, Ilie lifted his suitcase into the open boot and slammed it shut. "One more moment," he said, running back inside the house to retrieve his laptop in the impressive padded case. He checked the zipped pocket once more, relieved to feel the soft edges of his passport, his plane ticket and the few banknotes he would need for the journey.

A loud honking on a horn made him scramble out of the hut, slamming the door after him. He climbed into the front passenger seat and was still attempting to secure his seatbelt when the car jerked forward. Teodor did not speak during the entire fifteen minute journey, smoking continuously he was too busy passing every other vehicle on the road. He pulled up with a squeal of brakes in front of the train station, barely missing a trio of children playing with stones in the dust.

"Forty leu," said Teodor, breaking his silence.

"You've already had twenty," pointed out Ilie, still annoyed at being made to pay a deposit for the journey. He pulled out four tattered five new leu notes and passed them over. "There, that's the other twenty." He got out of the car and had only just got his case when Teodor revved the engine and moved off.

Once he had recovered his composure, Ilie went to the ticket office and bought a ticket for Bucharest, over one hundred and fifty kilometres and countless stops away. He would be on the train for the rest of the day. Considering this, he went to the food stall and bought bread and cheese and some beers for the journey. It was when he turned away with his purchases that he spotted Dimitri loitering near the station entrance trying not to be seen. What was he doing here? Nothing legitimate, decided Ilie, who had not told the man – or any of his other followers – that he was leaving for good. They, like the rest of the village, thought Ilie was going to visit a cousin in the next town.

Taking his belongings, Ilie walked to the end of the platform past clumps of people sitting and standing waiting for the local train that was expected anytime; the timetable was more an aspiration than a promise. He stopped well away from other passengers, part-hidden behind a pillar where waste ground stretched out to a boarded up factory. As he expected, Dimitri followed and now stood in front of him.

"Your ticket is for Bucharest," said the burly man, hands on his hips, his expression challenging.

"That's right." Ilie's hand was inside his jacket pocket, his eye on the train miraculously approaching.

"Why? You told us you were going to Arad." Dimitri moved closer so that bare centimetres separated them.

"I lied."

The train was close now and noise filled the air as the huge diesel engine rattled and brakes hissed. With a swift movement, while everyone's eyes were on the train, Ilie thrust the long-bladed knife into the other man's stomach, angled upwards. It penetrated the heart and Dimitri died before the train had come to a stop. Hoisting the dead body forward, careful not to get blood on himself, Ilie dumped it in the waste ground before collecting his belongings and boarding the train. He felt no remorse - Dimitri had been a burden for a long time - and took his seat in the carriage, looking to the future and glory.


	19. Chapter 14

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Fourteen

_Cardiff_

After all the excitement, the Torchwood offices were quiet once more with only two people remaining on site. Brigadier Bruce-Tarkleton had departed with his technicians and shortly afterwards Gwen had left for home, only a little after her normal time. She needed to talk with Rhys and wanted to have some time with him and baby Daniel before contacting her team all around the world, or as many of them as she could reach; she had already sent encrypted emails. Sitting at her desk, Lois was speaking to Andy Davidson about how to dampen the rumours of tanks in the city.

"So you'll sort the media out, Andy?"

"_Consider it done, love. I wish I'd been there to see Gwen's face when she faced down a bloody tank,"_ he chuckled_. "Like that bloke in China, I suppose." _

"Something like that." Lois was too young to remember the confrontation in Tiananmen Square back in 1989 but the image of a slight student standing in front of the towering bulk of a tank had been displayed on the walls of many a fellow university student's rooms. "I'll leave you to get on." Lois liked Andy but he did tend to natter on if she wasn't careful.

"_Oh, okay. Ah, I don't suppose you'd like to meet up sometime,"_ he ventured. _"Have a drink maybe?" _

"That sounds great, Andy, but I'm not sure when. Have to be when we're not so busy."

"_Right."_ He was disappointed but not surprised; she was a beautiful woman and unlikely to want to go out with him. He always fell for the unobtainable ones, like Gwen. _"Well, I'll be seeing you." _

"Yeah, bye."

"_Bye." _

With her hand on the telephone, Lois sighed. She liked Andy and hoped he wouldn't become a nuisance. A shared drink or even a meal now and then could help fill her sometimes lonely nights but she didn't want a romance, not with a man. After making a few more notes in the file, she went into the workshop to check on Alonso. He was at his workstation. Printouts spilt off the desk onto the floor in untidy heaps and various bits of equipment were scattered around. He glanced up and smiled.

"I think I've found something."

Sitting in the chair facing him across the double desk, she asked, "What?"

"I was right about the crestinoni being gathered in one area. It's here, in sector fourteen, quadrant 3.79 beta." He held up an astral map which had a large circle around one point. "And it's been there before."

"Hang on, let me get this clear. The crestinoni that's used to make drugs has been moved to that point?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "The rest of Earth's atmosphere must have been seeded because the concentrations went down in every place except this one where it increased a hell of a lot."

"You said it's been there before. What does that mean?"

"It's here, in this printout," he replied, upsetting a pile of paper in his efforts to get to the particular note he wanted. "That quadrant has repeatedly had large concentrations which then disappear. Just like that." He clicked his fingers.

"It's taken?" Lois was not sure how anyone could do what Alonso was suggesting but trusted he was right. "How often and who by?"

"Every six of your months. Difficult to say who it is, I'd need access to records of energy emissions. Can you get those?"

"I could try."

"Good, because whoever it is taking this stuff is due back anytime now. The concentrations are way up, ready for collection." They continued to discuss the problem.

-ooOoo-

Across the city, Gwen and Rhys had eaten supper and were in the living room, a sleepy Daniel lying in his father's arms. At Gwen's request, they had put off discussion of the day's events until now so she could enjoy a quiet meal with her family. It had also given her a chance to put the events into some sort of order.

"I need to ask a favour, sweetheart," she said, reaching over to wipe some dribble from Daniel's chin.

"Go on then, what is it? Suppose you need to work tomorrow."

She smiled and ran a hand down his cheek, feeling the end of day stubble. "You know me too well. But … I need you to come in too. We can take Daniel along, he'll be quite safe." Licking her lips, surprised by his lack of response, she continued, speaking faster than normal. "I made a mistake today, concentrated on what I wanted to do and not on what I should have. It could have been a disaster."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault," he protested loyally.

"Yes it was. I nearly let Denise Riley ruin everything." She shook her head and grimaced in disgust. "It would have been just like …" The words wouldn't come; she couldn't say it out loud.

Rhys put his free arm round her shoulders and held her close, kissing the top of her head. He knew what was bothering her, it was the only subject that she still had problems talking about - the 456. "But you didn't. Tell me what happened."

"The message to the Network about those signals went out late yesterday and there were hundreds of responses. I knew there would be but even so there were too many to cope with. I answered some, the important ones, or what I thought were important, but then I ignored them, let them accumulate, while Lois and I searched the records. It was like old times, like all those times with Tosh and Ianto." Her voice was wistful as she remembered shared success and frustration as the Torchwood team of old had chased down a fact or searched for a link. "I was enjoying it and took my eye of the ball."

"Nothing wrong with that, love," he soothed. "Happens to us all."

"It's wrong when it lets bloody Denise Riley out of her box! She only set up a meeting of COBRA and was going to take unilateral action to defend the UK! Wanted to close the borders and have UNIT activate the exclusion field!" Gwen was disgusted with herself but more so with Riley; the woman was no better than Brian Green.

Rhys tightened his grip on both Gwen and Daniel, trying to protect them against he knew not what. Gwen laid her head on his shoulder, feeling better for his unquestioning support. When she had realised how close she had come to losing control of the situation she had felt incredibly low. Almost as bad as on her first day with Torchwood, or when she had found out about Flat Holm. Reminded of the Rift victims, she made a mental note to go out there again soon, check all was well; something else to worry about.

Lacing her fingers into Rhys's, she carried on speaking. "Took UNIT to wake me up to the danger. God knows what would have happened if they hadn't," she admitted. "In the end, Riley had her meeting but I had a link into it as did every other Government in the Network. There was no way she could carry on when everyone knew what she was up to. Not that some of the others weren't thinking on the same lines!" National security had again superseded planetary defence despite all the co-ordinating efforts of the UN in the past eighteen months. "They all agreed, eventually, to work together and to give Jack and the others more time."

"You persuaded them?" He hugged her tighter and chuckled. "My wife telling all those politicians what to do!"

"No worse than keeping you in line." She poked him in the stomach.

"Oy!" He moved to avoid her and jostled Daniel who woke up and started to cry, unhappy at being disturbed. Both his parents cooed and fussed over him until he was settled once more, eyes closed. "What do you need me for then?" asked Rhys. "You know, in the office."

"To help us search the records and deal with the messages. At the end of the meeting I asked all the Network to do their own research and pass it to us. We'll be inundated again even though they've been told not to bother us with non-relevant stuff. Lois and Alonso will be in, but three's not enough."

"Oh." Rhys was disappointed, he had hoped for something more exciting than paperwork, he had enough of that at Harwoods.

Gwen misunderstood and pulled back out of his embrace, immediately contrite; she shouldn't ask him to give up his weekend when he worked so hard all week. It was just that she had hoped he'd help, would support her. "It's all right, sweetheart, I understand. We'll manage somehow."

"What? No, Gwen, I'll do it, 'cos I will. Was just hoping for something bit more exciting."

"Don't, Rhys, don't say that," she warned as the relief and love flowed through her. "The last thing we need is anything else to land in our laps." She burrowed under his arm again.

-ooOoo-

"Oh my."

Alonso looked at Lois, eyebrows raised. "Something wrong?"

"Uh … it's a bit of a mess."

They were in the open-plan lower floor of the Penarth apartment which Alonso had been occupying alone for the past couple of days. Various items of clothing were strewn on the furniture and takeaway boxes – some still with food inside – and drinks cans were on the coffee table alongside dirty glasses. The kitchen/diner was worse. It was situated in an alcove with counters on three sides, all of which were littered with the remains of meals. The sink contained food-encrusted crockery; an open packet of cereal stood on the side next to a tetrapak of milk, also open; breadcrumbs surrounded the bread bin and toaster; a half eaten loaf stood between them; a tub of spread was open nearby, with a dirty knife balanced on top; a carton of fruit juice was standing in a pool of spilt contents; dollops of peanut butter led from the open jar to the toaster. About the only clean spot in the entire kitchen was the stainless steel pedal bin.

"Is it?" Alonso looked around and saw the mess for the first time. "I suppose it is," he admitted with a shrug.

"Yes, it is." She tried to hide her shudder.

"Oh well, not to worry. Now, let me find some plates for the fish and chips." He cheerfully rummaged through one of the cupboards locating two plates. Mugs were harder to find, clean ones anyway, so he gave up and went to the fridge for the drinks there. "Beer or wine?" he asked.

"Neither." Lois had removed her jacket and hung it up. There was no way she was going to eat in the midst of this mess. "We can't leave it like this. It's unhygienic."

He stood, a bemused expression on his face. "I couldn't find the 'bots."

"The what?" Lois had her sleeves rolled up and was systematically going round the kitchen sniffing the contents of jars and bottles and, on those still fresh, securing the lids.

"The 'bots. Cleaning 'bots." He saw her confused look. "You do have cleaning 'bots?" he added slowly and hopefully.

"I don't know what you're talking about. The apartment's not serviced, if that's what you mean; you have to clean up after yourself. Go and gather up your clothes and put them away. If you've got dirty things, bring them down here and we'll do a load. And while you're doing that, I'll sort this out." She moved purposefully around the kitchen, pushing Alonso out of the way.

"But the chips will get cold."

"We'll warm them in the microwave. Go on, get cracking. And when you've done the clothes, pick up all the rubbish."

Order was created out of chaos very quickly. Within half an hour, Lois had cleared the kitchen tops, putting away the foods that had not spoiled and disposing of the rest. The washing up had been done and clean crockery and cutlery - mostly bowls and spoons from breakfasts – put away. Two black sacks of rubbish had been taken down to the wheelie bin and a carrier bag of recyclables was by the front door ready to go down. Finally, the two of them sat at the dining table with their meal and chatted as they ate. Lois was glad she had suggested the impromptu meal and that they had come to the apartment; Alonso obviously needed guidance about acceptable levels of hygiene in the home and how to achieve it.

"That was good," he said, pushing away his plate. "Haven't had those before."

Lois looked at him over the rim of her wine glass. "Where do you come from?" she asked. It was close to a week since Jack and Alonso had turned up on Torchwood's doorstep and in that time she had quickly realised that this young man was not from Earth. Nothing specific had been said but from various comments it had not been hard to work out. She was not alarmed by this - her experiences with Torchwood had including meeting a few alien races – merely curious.

"Sto." He looked at her and grinned. "S. T. O. It's a long way from here, out in space."

Alonso had long since decided that Jack was too cautious in telling people about his – Alonso's – background. He saw no reason to be cagey with the other Torchwood team members, particularly Lois who he considered tremendously efficient, clever and good fun too. He wasn't attracted to her romantically, he didn't lean that way, but couldn't help but be aware of her pretty face and trim figure. Luckily, so far he had not had any prolonged interaction with anyone outside the Torchwood circle so had not told anyone else of his origins. His evening out with Rhys had been the one exception and as they had been all men no one had bothered to probe into Alonso's background, too busy talking about sports, girls and cars.

"I thought so." Lois smiled. "Tell me about it."

Given this encouragement, Alonso launched on a detailed description of his home planet and the life there. Then went on to tell her all about his family, his career and his few months with Jack. Only as he spoke did he realise how much he liked his previous life and he was getting a little sad when his mobile rang. "It's Jack," he said, a smile lighting up his face as he took the call. "Hi, Jack. How are you? What's happening? Where are you?"

Deciding to give him some privacy, Lois went upstairs to the bathroom. When she saw the state it was in, she had plenty to keep her occupied while the two men talked.

-ooOoo-

_Melbourne, Australia_

After the long flight Selwyn was grateful for the opportunity to shower and change his shirt. Afterwards, he got some sandwiches and a drink from the buffet and took them to a group of seats on the far side of the business class lounge where he was waiting for his next flight – only five hours this time – to Perth. According to his watch it was 07.13am but his body clock was so confused it felt more like the middle of the night. As to the day, that was even more confusing; he had missed one day completely when he'd crossed the International Date Line. Clocks on the wall showed that it was evening in the UK, time to check in with Gwen.

The phone rang three times before it was answered. "Gwen, that you?"

"_Selwyn, good to hear from you. I was about to ring." _She sounded very near but there was very slight time delay which reminded him she was on the other side of the world.

"Thought I'd better let you know I'm in Melbourne. The flight to Perth leaves in an hour."

"_Good journey?"_

"Not bad. What's happening with you? Anything I should know about?"

He sat back in his chair eating his meal and listened as Gwen told him of her difficulties with Denise Riley and the increased involvement of the Network. She confirmed that the ASIO – Australian Security Intelligence Organisation – had arranged for an agent to meet him in Perth. Some progress in locating the signal had been made already but, as instructed by Gwen, no one would approach it until he was there to supervise. Not sure he was the best person to lead any search but resigned to the role, he asked after Jack and Kevin.

"_Jack's still in the air. Not sure where to be honest. Kevin's in the Ascension Islands. That means you'll be first on the ground." _

"Right." They chatted for a few more minutes before ending the call.

Drinking the last of his coffee, Selwyn stared across the half-full lounge. His fellow travellers were a mix of businessmen and tourists but all of them appeared confident and ready for anything. He wished he could feel the same but was so far out of his comfort zone that instead he wished he never arrived at Perth where everyone would realise how inadequate he was for the task ahead. At that moment, his flight appeared among the advertised departures. With a deep sigh, he gathered his bag and laptop and made for the boarding gate.


	20. Chapter 15

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Fifteen

_Perth, Australia_

The mid-afternoon sun was beating down as Selwyn left the Hyatt Regency Hotel. Australia was about as warm as Texas but here it was coming up to summer and the city felt different, looking forward to even warmer temperatures rather than back to the heat just gone. Numbed by the amount of travelling he had done, Selwyn would have liked to stay in the large room made available for him to wash and change, and sink down on the king size bed and sleep – or try to – the afternoon away. But it was not to be. His ASIO contact, Mark Tang, had explained on the drive from the airport, that the signal was coming from another city – Mandurah – nearly fifty miles to the south and that they needed to head down there as soon as possible.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," said Selwyn as he neared the Toyota Land Cruiser. Mark was leaning against it, his foot on the bumper surveying the pretty women entering and leaving the hotel.

"No worries. I'll take your bag." He put the case in the boot before getting into the driving seat. "It'll take a couple of hours to get there this time of day," he said as he started the engine and reversed out.

"Okay. I'll see what this tells us."

Nervously Selwyn booted up his laptop and waited for the programs to open. He remembered most of Jack's instructions about locating the cone which was emitting the signal - he had read through his notes repeatedly on the plane - but now had to put them into practice. He wondered once again how he came to be here, in this role. He was a behind-the-scenes administrator, a diplomat and facilitator who was happiest sitting at a negotiating table debating minor clauses in documents; frontline action, and in particular technical applications, were not his specialty. But he was here, persuaded by Jack's silver tongue, and he supposed he would just have to do his best not to mess up. He clicked on the icon he wanted and the transmission, just as Jack had said it would, appeared, strength five.

"Got anything?" asked Mark, a trim, short man of Asian origin aged anywhere from mid-twenties to late thirties. His parents had emigrated to Australia from Vietnam before he was born and he sounded like every Australian Selwyn had ever met. Mark was driving through moderately heavy traffic and had to stop and start as the lights up ahead went through their cycle. Consequently, he had time to glance across at Selwyn.

"Yes. I've picked up the signal all right. We should continue in this direction, south."

The vehicle continued on its way and Selwyn relaxed sufficiently to look out at the passing streets. Perth was an attractive city – at least this part – with wide streets, tall modern buildings and plenty of greenery: shade trees lined almost every pavement. In the bright sunshine everywhere gleamed and shone. The road crossed a wide river and he caught another glimpse of the sea, the Indian Ocean, that he glimpsed from the plane. He hoped, when this was all over, if the world survived, that he would have time for a swim in the crashing waves. Eventually the city ended and they were passing through open country and small towns on Highway 2, the Kinwarra Freeway. They were several miles inland but the coast was full of bays and inlets and there continued to be glimpses of the ocean off to the left. Lulled by the smooth ride and the glorious scenery, Selwyn almost forgot what would be expected of him at the end of the journey.

-ooOoo-

_Moscow, Russia_

The sun was also shining on the Russian capital, reflecting off the thin covering of snow at the sides of the road and off the glass of the many modern office buildings. The route into Moscow from the airport showed the recent changes in Russian priorities. Gone were the monolithic, drab blocks where demoralised workers had lived and worked in little comfort, replaced by buildings that had duplicates in every Western city. Only occasionally had an older building, often a church, survived to provide some relief from the sameness of the rest and, in the distance, visible when the road crested a hill, was the centre of the city with its amazing onion-domed buildings. Jack Harkness kept his gaze fixed on the passing streetscape as he was driven fast along the streets in the over-heated interior of a luxury Mercedes. He was remembering other visits to the city when he had either been welcomed, and made this same journey in a Zil or Gaz limousine, or had had to slip in under the radar and make his own way while hoping to remain anonymous.

"Ve vill be zere zoon," said a deep rumbly voice beside him. Vasili Karenchenko of the FSB was a large man, made larger by the heavy coat and his mass of dark hair and bushy beard. His strong white teeth glinted in a smile.

Jack merely nodded and continued to stare out of the side window. After flying across the US and Europe it was annoying to be stuck in Moscow for six hours waiting for a connection to Irkutsk, the nearest city to the source of the signal. However, there was no quicker way to get there and the delay would give him time to wash and change – into warmer clothes – and have a decent discussion with Gwen back in Cardiff. It irked Jack that he had, effectively, been out of the loop on what had been happening for the past twelve hours. He was used to being in charge, to knowing all that was going on, and he hated being anything else. Gwen was reliable – there was no one he trusted more – but the texts and emails that had made it through from Cardiff were not encouraging which only made him more agitated. How had Denise Riley imagined she could get away with unilateral action? Had she learnt nothing from the events with the 456? Luckily Gwen appeared to have nipped Riley's plans in the bud but Jack wanted to have all the details before he would be fully reassured.

Shifting in his seat he glanced at Vasili, in the back seat with him, and at the two large agents in the front of the car. These three had met him at Domodova International Airport - a large, modern and busy hub for various airlines – and seen him quickly through customs and passport control; FSB carried a lot of weight. They had allowed him to retain his Webley too which was more than their predecessors in the grim days of Stalin had done. Jack had not been in Russia since the fall of communism and was waiting to see if the change of architecture was an accurate reflection of the new country's ethos or if it was all superficial. Adopting at least the veneer of capitalism had certainly brought with it all the bad; people did not talk about the Russian mafia for nothing. Jack hoped that some of the old national identity remained, the country had a varied and interesting history which deserved to be celebrated. Not, however, that he wanted the FSB to operate in the same old ways with umpteen layers of secrecy and paranoia colouring every decision. Gwen had insisted they could be trusted, that Vasili would be helpful, and Jack hoped it was true. He did not want to see the inside of a Lubyanka cell again.

The car turned off the main road and made a number of turns before passing through a barrier into a complex of modern, concrete and glass office buildings. They drew up in an open courtyard by a flight of shallow steps flanked by what he assumed was grass and flower beds: the pavement and roads had been meticulously cleared of all snow but not the other areas.

Vasili turned and smiled at Jack. "Come. Ve have vodka to varm us zen ve talk."

"Good to know you have your priorities right."

The two men exited the car. It was officially autumn but the chill in the air – the temperature was hovering around freezing - bit through Jack after the warm interior of the car. He pulled his greatcoat across and did up a couple of buttons, put his laptop on his shoulder and stuffed his hands in his pockets before walking beside Vasili up the many steps and across the open space to the doors. Even on this short journey the wind bit at his face and his ears felt distinctly cold. His first priority was to buy some warmer clothes before he ventured into the much colder Siberia.

-ooOoo-

_Ascension Island_

Closing the barracks door, Kevin Heggerty headed out into the early morning light. It was just 6.00 and he had three hours until his flight on to the Falklands Islands. He walked down the well-tended gravel paths, nodding to the few other men he saw, guards and early risers like himself, as he headed across the grass to a picnic area on a small mound at the perimeter of Wideawake Airfield, home of the joint USAF and RAF forces on the Island. It was one of the world's most remote bases: the nearest land was St Helena 800 miles south with the coast of Africa 1,000 miles away to the east and South America even further away at 1,300 miles to the west. Ascension was just a dot in the immensity of the Atlantic Ocean and Kevin felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. There was no one nearby to help him, he was on his own.

Sitting at a bench, Kevin took a moment to look around at the airfield spread out below and around him. Behind it, inland, were hills of dark volcanic rock but of more interest was the sweeping view over the sea. Last night he and some of the squaddies he had travelled with from the UK had taken a couple of Land Rovers down to South West Bay, visible now in the strengthening light, and had a party on the beach. Beers had preceded a dip in the South Atlantic – colder than it looked – and a singsong round a bonfire of driftwood. He smiled at the memory, willing to accept the lingering hangover for that magical moment of camaraderie. The companionship had been the best part of working for UNIT and why he had stayed with them so long. Working for Torchwood was interesting, and he liked the variety of the work, but he would have preferred a larger team; he had very little in common with Gwen, Selwyn or Lois.

Tearing his gaze away from the white sand beach and the blue sea, he opened his laptop bag and quickly logged on. He read the email from Gwen, sent late the night before, but it didn't add anything to what he already knew. Opening up the correct program, he was pleased to pick up the signal coming from the south west. It had gained in strength but was still a long way away. He made some notes, emailed these to Gwen and then closed the laptop and made his way back to barracks.

"More coffee?" asked Brendan Riley, a Liverpudlian corporal who was sharing the table with Kevin and half a dozen others.

"Please." Kevin held out his mug and watched as the rich liquid was poured. Breakfast was taken in the canteen and he had enjoyed the full English, mopping up the juices with thick, buttered toast. "Ta."

"You all ready for the plane? They'll be loading us soon."

"Uh-huh. You?"

Brendan nodded. "Another bloody nine hours. Never knew the world was this big!"

"We're going to the bottom of the world where everyone will forget about us," added another of the soldiers pessimistically. For Terry Stokes the glass was perpetually half-empty.

"Including your old woman!" chimed in another to general laughter.

The chitchat continued with most of the men coming in for some ribbing. They would be based on the Islands for four months and it was obviously a wrench for some to leave their families behind, especially as they would be away over Christmas. But at least with modern communications they could maintain contact. Regular emails and web links would lessen the feeling of isolation. Unspoken but evident nonetheless, was the squaddies' relief to be going to a less onerous posting after tours in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Kevin listened and watched, understanding how they felt. He had gone through it himself, although he had never had a wife and children to leave behind. If all went well, his own stay would be for a few days only. Provided he, Selwyn and Jack were able to locate these signals, or more precisely the cones that were transmitting them, and neutralise them. Realising the seriousness of his mission brought Kevin down to earth with a bump.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

"I'll get it," said Gwen, keen to get a moment to herself. She headed out of the office before Rhys could say anything and was through Reception in a trice. In the cool air outside, she paused and leant against the wall.

On this Saturday, she had come into the office earlier than on a working day leaving Rhys to dress Daniel and get all his things together. A baby needed so much she knew she would get a couple of hours to herself. She had used her time wisely, checking all the emails that had landed in her in-box overnight. There had been a lot. Every country was doing its bit to fathom out the riddle of the alien signals and while some of the information was undoubtedly useless it had kept the politicians busy and stopped them formulating other mad schemes. Among the dross, were some nuggets of gold from her team: Selwyn had arrived in Perth and was on the trail of the signal there; Kevin was about to leave Ascension Island but had picked up his signal; while Jack's message merely showed he was still in the air and getting antsy. She had smiled at that, reminded of other times when he had not been in control of the situation and had been on the point of exploding with frustration.

At nine, Lois arrived shortly followed by Alonso. Over coffee and croissants, they had updated her on the other search, the one for the drug traffickers stealing crestinoni from the atmosphere. Gwen had been interested but even with the potentially devastating consequences she could not give it the same priority as the search for the signals. Luckily, Alonso had been content to put it on the back burner in favour of monitoring the signals and had settled happily in the workshop with a packet of chocolate digestives to keep him company. Lois and Gwen had ended up in the latter's office: Lois to continue filtering the incoming emails while Gwen followed up on all the promising leads. Rhys had found them still at it when he had arrived at 9.45 with Daniel in his carrycot and the car full of the baby's other essentials. It was in the process of converting Selwyn's office into a nursery that they had realised Daniel's favourite teddy was still in the car.

After several minutes, Gwen pushed away from the wall and got the teddy. It was time to set up for the three way web link between herself, Jack and Selwyn. She had hoped to have more to tell them but so far their researches had only thrown up half a dozen possibles. Not much to show for hours of work by her, her team and the Network.

"Here it is." She handed the teddy to Rhys and bent down to check on Daniel, sitting in his bouncy chair gurgling. "My, aren't you a happy boy today. Do you like coming to Mummy's work? Do you? Yes, you do." She had always promised herself never to use baby talk but couldn't seem to help herself.

"You going to tell me what you want me to do then, love?" asked Rhys.

Reluctantly forsaking her son, Gwen straightened up. "We'll be talking with Jack and Selwyn soon so I'll need you to keep an eye on this one and answer the phones." UNIT had already called as had members of the Network. "Once we're done, it'll be helping with the research." She smiled at him before pecking his cheek; he really was a man in a million for putting up with her. "If that's okay."

"Fine. I'll go see Lois, get some instructions." He picked up the chair, baby and all, and went into the other office.


	21. Chapter 16

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Sixteen

_Cardiff_

Gwen spent ten minutes in the boardroom making notes about what she wanted to say during the web discussion with Selwyn and Jack. There was not a lot, unfortunately. At a little past 10.00, Lois came in with some files and her notepad and sat beside her boss, ready to take notes of the meeting. Alonso followed a few minutes later, as requested, to provide technical advice if needed.

"What time is it for them?" asked Gwen.

"Around one in the afternoon for Jack," reported Lois. "He'll have only been in Moscow for a little over an hour. It's six in the evening for Selwyn. His latest message said he was closing in on the source of the signal."

"Right. Let's try him first." Gwen activated the communications system, calling up Australia, and the large plasma screen flickered before settling into a fuzzy picture which cleared to show Selwyn's anxious face. "Hello, Selwyn. Can you hear me?"

After a short delay, during which they could see him adjusting his screen, he said, "Gwen. G'day from down under."

"I see you're making yourself at home! I'm going to try Jack now. Hold on." She split the screen and called up Moscow. This time the picture came up immediately, clear and perfect, showing Jack seated at a table with Vasili Karenchenko and another man. "Jack, good to see you."

"And you. You know Vasili, I think, and this is Pavel Gavrilov, his technical expert." Jack would have preferred to speak to Gwen alone but the FSB could make things very difficult for him if they wanted to and he had reluctantly accepted that it was necessary to have them present. He intended to make a more private call later when he could quiz her about Denise Riley's tricks.

"Hello to you both. Thanks for looking after Jack. Are you receiving Selwyn?"

"Ve are, Gven, ve are." Vasili flashed his improbably white teeth in a smile.

Once she had confirmed that Selwyn was receiving the transmission from Moscow, Gwen sat back in her chair and shuffled her papers. Time to start.

"Right, an update from here first. Following the virtual meeting yesterday, the Network have been beavering away checking their records to come up with suggestions about who or what is behind the signals. We've been sorting the data and have a few possibles that I'll run by you later. Those same reports have confirmed that there are still just the four signals. There's no change in Texas and Kevin won't reach the Falklands for another six hours so let's concentrate on your signals. Selwyn, what have you found?"

"We're close. Mark Tang here," he gestured to the man standing beside him and just in shot, "and his people tracked the signal to Mandurah, south of Perth. I've been able to narrow it down to the Austin Bay Nature Reserve."

"Obviously near water, like in Yantis," put in Jack. "Sounds like the right place."

"It's about five miles from here but we were thinking of waiting until tomorrow to head out. It'll be dark here very soon."

"We have the time, Selwyn. Better to be safe than to rush in in the dark," confirmed Gwen, looking off to the side. "We're just plotting that on the map. Give us a minute." She watched the electronic screen and a glowing red light appeared on the south western Australian coast. "Okay, we have that."

"I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to do when I get there," went on Selwyn. "I've been going through the notes, Jack, but …" he let the sentence hang.

Jack sat forward, projecting all the confidence he could through the screen to the man so many thousands of miles away. "Just locate the signal and confirm it is a cone like the one in Yantis. But stay clear of the water, you know what's probably lurking there." He didn't need to mention the black, snake-like creatures that had killed Lorenzo Correlli; Selwyn's reaction was evidence that he remembered all too well. "If it is a cone, leave it alone until we've spoken. You'll be fine."

Back in Cardiff, Gwen smiled. She recalled Jack talking to her like that so many times during her years working for him. The force of his personality and his confidence transmitted across the miles as clearly as it did when up close and personal. "Jack's right," she added and was pleased to see Selwyn's troubled expression settle into one of resigned acceptance; he was a good man if somewhat out of his depth. She turned her attention to the half of the screen showing the room in Moscow. "Jack, what are your next moves?"

"Buy some thermal underwear, it's freezing here!"

Gwen laughed and was pleased to see Selwyn join in. A bit of light relief had always been Jack's way of relieving tension. "After that," she prompted.

"Only a rough outline at the moment, I haven't had time to discuss the position fully with Vasili. They have some more data on the signal which I need to analyse. After that, I'll know more."

Beside him, Vasili stirred. "Gven, ze signal iz definite coming from near Irkutsk. Ve hav bookings on flight later today if Jack say ve go zere."

"What are the timings on that?" asked Gwen, watching Lois struggle to locate Irkutsk on the map: it was a long way away from Moscow.

The Russian looked down at a pad open on the desk before him. "Flight at 18.10 our time. Arrives 4.40 in ze morning local time."

"Good job I don't need much sleep," muttered Jack. He was watching Lois and remembering a time when it would have someone else doing that job. Ianto would have been quicker and had all the answers at his fingertips. God knows how, but he would have. A spasm of loss made Jack shiver before he banished all thoughts of his much-missed Welshman.

Gwen did not notice Jack's unease, she was consulting with Lois who had a chart of the world's time zones. It seemed unbelievable but Jack would cross six time zones on that one internal flight; Russia was a huge country. "According to our calculations, that's around eight o'clock tonight UK time."

"Correct," confirmed Vasili. "Ve vill not be able to investigate straight way. Too dark for us. It is nearly vinter." He spread his arms and shrugged. "And zere are zese creatures."

"I understand." Gwen paused, thinking hard. All three of her people were now spread around the globe and it was unreasonable to expect them to delay action until they could contact her. And yet, on the other hand, Jack could go off half-cocked and land them all in the shit if she didn't keep a close eye on him. On balance, however, she did not want to be up all night – if Daniel didn't keep her awake anyway – when there was little she could do to assist any of them. They were effectively on their own, with the local security forces for backup, and she had to accept that, within limits. "I can see that both you and Selwyn will be operating during my night. You're going to have to carry on without referring back to me but," she added, making eye contact with both of them, "I do not want you to do any more than identify the source of the signals and assess the situation unless the world is in imminent danger. Got that?"

"Of course," said Selwyn immediately. He wanted and needed all the support he could get.

"Sure," added Jack with a small smile that could mean many, many things. "Selwyn and I will be near enough the same time so we can keep in touch easily."

"Don't worry, Jack, I'll be relying on you," responded Selwyn with a wry smile.

"Okay, as long as that's understood," said Gwen. "I want emails straightaway when you find the signals and if you need to take action, call me. I don't want to be left out of the loop." She received more agreements from the two men. "Hiram thinks he's located the man who planted the cone in Yantis. Wayne Brewster, a petty thief who worked as a low-level operative for bigger fish, was found drowned in Lake Fork. They're about to search his home."

"Good," responded Jack. "We need any leads they can find."

The conversation continued for a another ten minutes confirming arrangements and going over the same ground. Gwen mentioned some of the leads provided by the Network but no one thought them very promising. Finally she summarised the arrangements for locating the signals one last time, warned them to be careful and logged out of the link.

"Thanks," said Gwen to Lois and Alonso. "There's nothing more we can do about the signals until we hear from them tomorrow."

Consulting her notes, Lois said, "Don't forget Kevin. He'll be calling around six tonight when he lands in Stanley."

"Of course." Gwen silently berated herself; she had forgotten Kevin, for some reason believing Selwyn and Jack were more important. Partly it was because they were operating in foreign lands with people they didn't know while Kevin was in British territory and had the Army to support him. Nevertheless, that didn't mean he was in any less danger from these creatures that lived in the water around the cones; she had to remember that. "That gives you and I a few hours to sort out the information coming in. I'd like to follow up on one or two of these suggestions." Gwen shoved back her chair and stood. "What about you, Alonso? Got something to do?"

"I'll get on with the energy emissions, identify the smugglers."

Gwen stopped partway to the door. She could hear Daniel crying from one of the offices but this did not distract her. "Hang on. You'll be able to identify the people taking the crestinoni?"

"Their ships' emissions, yes." He looked up at her, innocently. "Every race used different technology so I'll know who they are and then we can stop them."

"How?"

He shrugged. "Send in the Navy."

"We don't have a navy in space," she pointed out. She wished she had listened more closely to Alonso's earlier explanation of what he was doing. Yet another thing that she was not giving enough attention. The problem of the drug smugglers was assuming greater importance and she had to find time to address it.

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

The Atrium Hotel was modern and welcoming, situated on the waterways and canals just inland from the ocean. It had all the usual facilities – restaurant, bar, pool – and a lot of entertainment, including a cinema, just a short walk away. Everything was bathed in warm sunshine and looked clean and welcoming. To Selwyn it was heaven and he said as much to Mark Tang as they travelled up in the lift to the fifth floor.

"It's okay, I guess," replied Mark laconically with a shrug. "You want to grab something to eat?"

What Selwyn really wanted was to sleep but he knew that if he lay down he'd be out for the count. Better to carry out for another couple of hours and then he could collapse until morning. "Sure. After a quick shower and a change of clothes."

They got off the lift and turned right to their adjoining rooms. "Half an hour then?" asked Mark, halting at his room.

"I'll be ready." Selwyn walked on the few paces to his own room.

"Should be able to make contact with base. I'll tell them what's happening." Mark had his door open and paused long enough to see Selwyn nod and enter his room. The Englishman intrigued Mark and he wondered how such a typical English Pom had ended up in Torchwood. Didn't seem a likely combination.

On the other side of the wall, Selwyn was standing at the open patio door drawing in lungfuls of the exotically perfumed air, looking out at the expanse of man-made waterways and the myriad boats, of all sizes, bobbing about on the water. People were everywhere, most obviously holidaymakers but some had a more blasé attitude to the beauty around them and were probably locals using their boats for the weekend. It was already growing dimmer as dusk fell and yet boats were heading out towards the ocean. He wondered if they were off on nighttime cruises or starting longer trips. Shaking himself from these thoughts, Selwyn stripped off his clothes and went into the bathroom for a much needed shower. The day had been hot and he needed to freshen up. Afterwards, still damp, he put on clean underwear and cotton trousers and shirt. They were almost his last clean clothes and he bundled up the dirty stuff and called housekeeping to collect it for laundering. Next he locked the laptop in his case and put it in the wardrobe; he would be lost if anything happened to it. He was brushing his hair when Mark knocked on the door.

Dusk had given way to full dark when the two men walked into the hotel restaurant and were shown to a table near doors open onto a grassed area and canal beyond. It was only 18.35 but the restaurant was busy with family groups and couples all drawn in by the Saturday Night Seafood Gala Buffet. The table was groaning with all manner of hot and cold seafood dishes alongside salads and desserts. After ordering drinks – beer for Mark and wine for Selwyn – the two men joined the short queue and filled their plates.

"This is delicious," said Selwyn, back at their table.

"Not bad. I called base. They'll have a team out here early with boats and divers –"

"No divers," interrupted Selwyn forcefully. "No one goes in the water, it's too dangerous."

"These … creatures?"

"Yes. They're horrible and deadly." He explained what he seen them do. "Anyway, if this is the same as in Texas the cone will be on land. We just have to stay away from the water."

Mark sipped his beer. As an Australian he was used to living alongside the most deadly creatures in the world – spiders and snakes in particular – but these seemed in a class all of their own. So far, Australia had been ignored by most alien visitors and so his experience of alien life was limited. He decided to bow to Selwyn's greater knowledge and turned to matters he did understand.

"There's a possible lead on who might have placed the cone. A Joe Harmer washed up in Reserve a few days ago. Drowned." Mark filled his fork with some rice salad. "Funny that, he worked the boats and was a part-time lifeguard. Shouldn't have drowned."

"Probably the creatures. They can drag a man under and drown him without leaving a mark." Selwyn remembered seeing Jack disappear under the surface of Lake Fork. He had survived but no other human would have. "Any leads on Harmer's paymaster?"

The two men discussed this and other matters for the next hour as they enjoyed the meal and another couple of drinks each. Finally, Selwyn conceded defeat and went to his room, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. He was asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow and slept solidly for ten hours.

-ooOoo-

_Bucharest, Romania_

The train pulled into the station just a few minutes late. Ilie Roman was one of the last to alight. Carrying his battered suitcase into which he had wedged his precious laptop and wearing the clothes he had slept in, he stood out from the more stylish and well-to-do passengers. He had been to Bucharest, the capital of his country, only twice before and he now had ten hours to fill before his plane left. Asking a porter, he discovered the bus station was close by and walked there through the early morning pedestrians and found the left luggage facility. He balked at the cost but could not carry his case around the city all day. Handing over the required leu, he felt released from the cares of his calling and determined to enjoy his last hours as a private individual; in just two or maybe three days, he would be the most powerful man in the world.

After a meal in a small, grubby café off the main thoroughfare, he purchased a map and walked into the centre of the city. The buildings were magnificent, even better than he remembered, and he walked in a daze along the Caleo Victoriei staring all around him at the luxury so different to his poor and dusty village in the north west. He was disappointed with the Arch of Triumph, a glorified traffic island, but marvelled at the Royal Palace. Venturing inside, he walked round the National Art Museum but saw nothing there that could compare with The Lady and what was to come. At midday, he ate a meal in the Museum cafeteria then retraced his steps to the bus station and retrieved his case. The Otopeni Airport bus, number 783, was half full and he took a window seat. The next time he came to this city he would not be riding a bus. He would be in a limousine and be fêted by everyone for his part in the glorious renaissance that would follow The Lady's return. The passing scenery made no impact on him as he considered the glory that awaited him.


	22. Chapter 17

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Seventeen

_Moscow, Russia_

Jack closed his laptop and crossed the hotel room to get a bottle of water from the mini-bar before going to the bed. Stretched out, back propped up with pillows, he drank from the bottle and surveyed the room. The Metropol Hotel had gone up in the world since his last visit. The outside remained much the same, one of the buildings around Red Square to survive from before the Revolution of 1917, but inside it was as sleek and well-appointed as any Western hotel. Of course it had some features not found in New York or London – bugs. Not bed bugs, listening devices.

Jack had been pleased to find them, reassured that not everything had changed in this new capitalist Russia. He had blocked them easily and finally had his private conversation with Gwen back in Cardiff: Torchwood encryption remained unique on Earth and Jack was confident no one could hack into it. She had been at her desk nursing her son, a Madonna and child image that had been at odds with the subject under discussion. He had probed more fully about Denise Riley's shenanigans and been mostly reassured, Gwen appeared to have the lid on that particular can of worms. The conversation had turned to what might be trying to force a way onto Earth.

"_The Trakan Horde is a possibility,"_ she said, referring to notes on the desk in front of her. _"They've tried three times before."_

"But never this way. Someone is using humans to plant these cones. The Trakan think you people are vermin, they'd never employ humans."

Gwen hitched up Daniel who had slipped down. He was watching the screen with the unwavering stare unique to young babies and appeared fascinated by Jack. _"Hiram isn't having any luck with Wayne Brewster. There was unexplained cash in his trailer but no prints of any use on it or anywhere else." _

"Perhaps the Australians will have more joy with their guy."

"_Joe Harmer."_ She shuffled through the papers again. _"No updates on him yet. But getting back to the aliens, could it be Cell 114?"_ She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise when remembering the sleeper agents buried deep under cover in Cardiff who had brought the city to a standstill and nearly got their hands on nuclear warheads.

"Doubt it. They're more direct. I think Lois might be onto something with these sightings of the Virgin Mary. They're close to the Greenwich Meridian, which is key, and are like shadows, portents, of what's to come." He had studied all the documents during the long hours in the air and was becoming convinced the sightings and the signals were related.

Gwen was not sure. _"I don't see how. I'm not saying they're genuine but a lot of people believe in them. Including Church leaders, they've all come out in support now."_

"Look into it, Gwen. Please." He had never understood the notion of faith in an unseen god but over his many years had come across enough believers to know that it could be a very strong force. For good or evil. In the months he had been away, Gwen had become a believer, not an unthinking one but a believer nonetheless; this was going to be hard for her. "Check up on any obscure sects dedicated to Mary, female gods, that sort of thing especially any claiming prior knowledge of a visitation. Concentrate on those which have been more active than usual, maybe gathering followers."

She sighed deeply. _"All right. I'll see what I can find."_

The only other point of interest to come out of the conversation had been the news about the drug smugglers. Alonso was getting close, closer than Jack had expected and he was concerned. The last thing they needed was for drug smugglers to appear at the moment these signals coincided, that was a complication too many. Thinking of Alonso, Jack smiled and picked up his mobile. He had half an hour before leaving for the airport, time enough to call the boy and have a chat. With a chuckle he used his wrist strap controls to unscramble the bugs; some phone sex would thrill the FSB people listening in.

-ooOoo-

_Falkland Islands_

Kevin Heggerty walked along the longest corridor he had ever seen. His guide, a young private, had told him it was half a mile long and he believed it. The two men passed doors behind which were various messes, recreational facilities and other more mundane services on their way from the guest block - where to his surprise he had been given a room normally reserved for officers - to the commanding officer's headquarters. He had been on the Falkland Islands just half an hour, enough time to be whisked through the security formalities, find his room, check the signal and talk briefly to Gwen back in Cardiff. Now he had to face the CO and get his permission – and his help – to search the Islands for the signal. A daunting task for a former UNIT sergeant. Gwen had told him what to say (and what he should not) but now it was all up to him, there was no one he could defer to.

"Here we are, sir," said the private, holding open a door. "I'll be waiting for you when you're done."

"Thanks." With a deep breath, Kevin entered what he was relieved to find was an outer office. An Army Lieutenant looked up from his desk and, automatically, Kevin stiffened to attention. "Sir."

Without knowing it this was the best thing Kevin could have done. The joint Army, Navy and RAF force on the Islands was not pleased about being sent a civilian on a mission about which they knew nothing. Seeing the man dressed in cobbled together fatigues and obviously knowing how to behave to senior officers reassured Lieutenant Timothy Walker who smiled. "You're Heggerty, from Torchwood?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Right. Our orders are to help you but there are there are local considerations to be taken into account, might not be able to do much. You'd better come and see the Commodore and state your case." Walker rose and went to an inner door, knocking and waiting to be invited in. "Sir, Mr Heggerty of Torchwood is here. Will you see him?" The answering grunt could have meant anything but Walker knew it was an affirmative. He gestured Kevin forward and then shut the door behind them both.

"Sir." Kevin came to attention in front of the large desk, eyes fixed on a point above the head of the man sitting behind it. Using peripheral vision only, Kevin noticed the full head of thick blond hair, lean features and navy uniform.

"Commodore Partridge, Mr Heggerty," said Lieutenant Walker smoothly, standing to one side of Kevin.

"I don't believe in aliens," barked Partridge. "Lot of twaddle dreamed up by those washed-up fools in UNIT. And Torchwood are just plain meddlers."

"I'm sorry to hear you say that, sir," replied Kevin. He was an easy-going man who disliked upsetting the boat but was proud of UNIT and increasingly so of his Torchwood colleagues. He did not like hearing them dismissed so brusquely but instead of losing his temper, as others might, he asked mildly, "Does that mean you won't be providing me with any support?"

"Didn't say that. Sit down, man." Partridge waved both men to hard chairs. "Command insists this has priority but says fuck all else. What are you doing here?"

"Searching for the source of a signal, sir." Kevin took the man's interest as a good sign. In his experience, officers rarely wanted to know details unless they were willing to get involved.

"What signal? Who from?"

"An alien signal, sir."

"Pshaw!" Commodore Partridge showed clearly what he thought of this. "Going to bring about the end of the world, I suppose."

"Possibly, sir. We don't know for sure, that's why we need to locate them."

"Them? There's more than one?"

Kevin mentally kicked himself, he hadn't intended to mention the others. "Yes, sir, but only one in this part of the world."

"Walker, we picked up any 'alien' signals?" His mocking tone showed what he thought of the suggestion.

"No, sir," the Lieutenant replied, his tone soothing.

"There you are, there aren't any signals." The Commodore looked pleased with himself and sat back, fingers steepled before him. "Come all this way for nothing."

"That's not so, sir. I've already picked it up." Kevin opened the laptop he had been carrying and turned up the volume; all three men clearly heard a regular 'ping'. "It's emitting from a point south south west of here. About thirty miles away."

"Show me." Partridge leant forward to look at the screen but it meant nothing to him, as it would have meant nothing to anyone unfamiliar with Torchwood's technology. "Doesn't look like any signal I've ever seen."

"Mr Heggerty did say it was alien, sir," murmured Lieutenant Walker. Before the Commodore could respond, Walker asked, "What do you from want us, Mr Heggerty?"

"Transport and a few men to help me locate the source, sir."

Walker looked at the Commodore and lifted an eyebrow. "Could be a nice little exercise for some of the lads, sir," he suggested. "We could blood some of the new arrivals, give them a feel for what it'll be like for the next few months."

Commodore Alan Partridge swung his chair round and looked out of the window behind him. He had a good view of the airport apron, the two jets parked there and the rough ground beyond the perimeter. He liked this posting on these remote islands far away from interference from the top brass in Whitehall and knew that querying his orders would lead to complications he would rather avoid. It wasn't worth the hassle when all he had to provide was a few squaddies. He swung round to face the two men.

"All right. Sort it out, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir." Walker rose.

"Thank you very much, sir," said Kevin also on his feet. He stood at attention, almost saluted but stopped himself in time, and marched out of the room.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

It was late for Gwen to be at the office, nearly 19.00, and unprecedented for a Saturday. She had sent Rhys home a couple of hours before, taking young Daniel with him, while she stayed to talk to Kevin and finish up some calls. Closing her laptop, she made some notes on a pad. Somehow, Kevin had persuaded the military to provide backup and to move quickly; he was leaving to locate the signal shortly and should have some results later that night. She was impressed. If he found it, he would have beaten both Jack and Selwyn.

"He sounds chipper," said Lois entering the office. She had been listening in on the extension.

"With good cause. I seriously underestimated him." Gwen leant back, stretched her arms above her head and then relaxed. "Got something for me?" She had noticed the collection of files and loose papers in Lois' hands.

"Possibly." Lois sat down. "First, FSB confirmation that Jack is now in the air on his way to Irkutsk. He arrives at 19.40 our time."

"He's really clocking up the air miles. Do you know if he got the thermals he wanted?"

Lois laughed. "Even better. Check your emails, I sent you a photo." She waited as Gwen clicked her mouse. "Don't you love Jack in a hat?"

Gwen giggled. Jack was wearing a traditional Russian fur hat, ear flaps turned down; he looked ridiculous. He still wore his greatcoat but it was a tight fit. Zooming in, Gwen spotted the extra layers of clothes underneath and some fur lined boots. "Looks a right numpty." She closed the file. "I suppose Selwyn's still in bed."

"Uh-huh. Middle of the night in Oz. Perhaps tomorrow we'll get pictures of him in shorts," she joked.

"Wouldn't mind that, he's fit." The two women exchanged knowing smiles; they had compared notes on their colleague after a few too many drinks one night. "What's all that?" Gwen nodded towards the papers.

"News on religious sects around the world as requested, plus some stuff from Kwame at No.10. He's the lucky one who's been liaising with the Churches." Lois opened the top file. "I've looked through these and this is the most promising so far. The Maryan Disciples, a fundamentalist Christian group in Western Virginia, USA. They were predicting the arrival of the Virgin Mary in the months before the first sighting and have gathered a lot of followers. Their website and blog have had millions of hits." She passed across the open file.

Gwen read through the details. "No indication their predictions were anything more than a lucky guess. And people are donating money I see. A scam?"

"I don't know. They only pay for prayers."

"And an audience with Mary when she returns to Earth." Gwen closed the file with an exasperated sigh. Her religious beliefs were of the traditional kind and she no more expected to meet Mary than to walk on the moon. Although, she amended, in her line of work the latter was a distinct possibility; Martha had been there. "They're all mad."

"No, Gwen, they're believers." Lois shrugged. "Now people have proof aliens exist, they need something to hold onto, a belief in a higher authority to protect them."

"By paying money to meet the Virgin Mary! Like I said, mad." She reopened the file to read it again. "These Maryan Disciples seem to think Knock is the place to be, got a temple set up there already. Bet the Irish authorities are loving that."

"I expect they're enjoying the money the pilgrims bring in."

"Maybe. What's Kwame's take on all this?" Kwame Olongo was a down to earth Yorkshireman who could – mostly – be trusted. She recalled their conversation a few days before concerning the Prime Minister's position on the sightings. Canny Denise Riley had heeded Gwen's advice and remained sitting on the fence.

"Cautious. He's more alarmed at our interest than anything else. The Churches are sensitive at the best of the times but especially on the sightings. Rome in particular has decided they're genuine and if we start challenging that we'll have a lot of people angry with us."

"I don't care who I upset, but we'd better not do anything until we're sure of our facts." In recognition of the current high levels of Church attendance and consequent importance of religion in the UK, a special advisory post had been created in the Cabinet for a Church leader. In keeping with the ecumenical nature of the religious revival, the holders of the post rotated between the main denominations. Gwen thought the current holder was Catholic but wasn't sure.

The door to the office opened and Alonso came in, hands in pockets and looking younger than ever. "They're Irakii," he announced.

"Iraqi? Who's Iraqi?" asked Gwen.

"The smugglers, the ones taking the crestinoni." He stood beside Lois looking down at both women, pleased at having identified them so quickly.

"The Iraqis are in space?"

"Yeah. They're anywhere there's a profit to be made."

Lois, initially as stunned as her boss, was having second thoughts. "Alonso, who are the people doing this?"

He shrugged. "Irakii. Though I wouldn't call them people, they're not like you or me. More like the Nebu of Vexistan or maybe the Digi'jaradi."

Gwen groaned, realising they were talking at cross purposes. "Let me get this straight, they're not natives of Earth?"

"No, 'course not. You people are way too primitive."

"Sit down and tell me more." It was going to be a long night.

-ooOoo-

_Paris, France_

Charles De Gaulle airport was noisy and confusing and Ilie Roman stood out among the more experienced travellers. He followed everyone off the plane, hugging the laptop to him like a talisman, and floundered when faced with French bureaucracy at passport control. The little French he had so painstakingly learnt deserted him and he could only gesticulate and gibber in Romanian when asked questions about the nature and purpose of his visit. It took ten minutes to get past that official and another ten to find his case – now with a dent in the side – and present himself at Customs. The shabbily dressed foreigner attracted interest immediately and he was taken to one side for his belongings to be searched. He had so little this took no time at all (even the ceremonial cup was dismissed as tat) and finally, deciding Ilie was harmless, he was allowed into France.

Standing on the concourse, Ilie looked round in bewildered amazement and wondered how anyone could find their way in this maelstrom of activity and announcements; it was much worse than Bucharest airport. He might have stood there for hours if he had not heard his name over the tannoy and found the customer service desk where Auben Dupont waited.

"Maitre, welcome to France." Auben spoke slowly in broken Romanian. "I am honoured to help your journey."

Relieved at finding anyone to help him, Ilie broke into voluble Romanian before realising his new friend did not understand. They continued the conversation in a mixture of French and English and a lot of gestures; Auben was a junior member of The Lady's supporters in France sent to help him. He led Ilie through the crowds to the RER station where a train was about to depart. Sitting together, they talked quietly as the train sped into Paris and the compartment filled up around them. Auben handed over three hundred Euros and a train ticket for the next part of Ilie's journey. At the Gare d'Austerlitz, they hastened to the correct platform and Ilie just made his connection.


	23. Chapter 18

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Eighteen

_Falkland Islands_

They travelled in two Land Rovers. Kevin was in the leading vehicle, laptop open on his knee, giving directions to the driver. The signal was up to strength six as they passed through North Arm, a small settlement hugging the rocky coast. The countryside was bleak this spring evening, tussocky grass fields dotted with sheep but a lot of bare rock too. Trees were stunted and misshapen, forced to grow sideways by strong winds that blew nine days out of ten. The vehicles turned south on a narrow coast road leading to isolated fishing villages.

"Bloody bleak place, Sarge," observed Terry Stokes, one of the soldiers who had made the trip out with Kevin. He was not pleased at being given this assignment only an hour after landing, especially as most of his buddies were back in barracks.

"It's okay," said Sergeant Mick Mills, the driver, who had been on the islands for a couple of months and was in command of this exercise. "People are friendly and no one's shooting at you."

"Ya see, Terry, it's not all bad," put in Brendan Riley, another who had just arrived. "Count your blessings."

"We're running out of road, Kevin," pointed out Mick. The tarmac had been patchy for the last mile or so and now it ran out altogether. A rough, rocky track went up a rise in front of them.

"It's not much further. Half a mile maybe," replied Kevin.

"That's good. Any further and we'll be in the Atlantic." Mick drove on, the Land Rover bouncing from side to side. At the top of the rise, they saw he had spoken the absolute truth. They were on a spit of land reaching out into the sea. To their left was a wide, ruggedly beautiful bay and in the distance a low-lying island. A few fishing boats were dotted around, some on the water and others pulled up on shingle beaches.

"What is this place?" asked Brendan.

"Bay of Harbours. Out there is Sea Lion Island."

Kevin was not listening. The signal was stronger than ever and he stepped out of the stationary vehicle and walked a few paces down towards the sea. This was the place; he was very close indeed. Gesturing to the men to follow him, Kevin continued walking and soon realised he was heading for a dilapidated wooden hut right next to the water. He halted twenty metres away and waited for the others – Mick, Brendan, Terry and the four men in the other vehicle – to catch up.

"Do you know what that is?" he asked.

"Fishing hut, net store, something like that," replied Mick with a shrug. "They're all over the place. This what we're looking for?" He scanned the area, seeing only the usual grass, bushes and a single tree.

"Yes."

With quick efficiency, Mick got his men into a rough semi-circle, weapons held slantwise across their chests, and they slowly walked forward. No one leapt out at them from the bushes and they came to rest surrounding the hut.

"I think it's inside," said Kevin.

"Understood. Mason, make an entry, quiet like," ordered Mick. One of the men stepped forward and carefully opened the door. Nothing happened and the watching soldiers relaxed.

"There it is," breathed Kevin, recognising the cone clearly visible inside. It was an exact match to the one at Yantis. Beside it, and attached by heavy duty leads, was a rectangular pack that appeared to be supplying power.

"That's it?" Mick stuck his head in the hut, peered at the cone and pack and checked the inside. "It's clear."

"I need to take some readings." In his excitement about achieving his goal, Kevin forgot to tell them to stay away from the water.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

Despite being close to midnight, Gwen was still awake. She had got home shortly after eight and eaten the remains of a takeaway as she brought Rhys up to date. Too tired to do anything else, she had then slumped onto the sofa beside him and watched television until Daniel needed his final feed. She was still there now, Daniel asleep in her arms and Rhys snoring beside her. Her men, what a pair! She started when the mobile rang and reached for it quickly not wanting to wake Rhys or the baby.

"Cooper," she said, keeping her tone low.

"_Ma'am, it's me, Kevin."_ The connection was clear despite the distance and she thought he was upset. _"I've found the cone." _

"Great. Well done."

"_I'm afraid there's been an accident,"_ he continued, determined to warn her. _"A soldier has died." _

"How?" She was sitting bolt upright, juggling phone and baby as she stretched a hand to reach the pen and paper on the coffee table. The pen, resting on top, rolled off and fell to the floor. She cursed silently.

"_One of the creatures, those snake things, came out of the sea and dragged him under." _

"Damn." She immediately knew this was going to get complicated; the military had procedures for everything and most especially for fatalities on active service. "Where are you? What's happening?"

"_I'm with the cone. The sergeant in charge has radioed back to base and we're expecting an officer to come out." _

"Okay. Whatever happens, your priority is the cone. Stay there and if anyone tries to make you do any different, put them on to me."

"_Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am." _

"Kevin, it's not your fault. Understand?"

Some of her conviction travelled over the eight thousand miles that separated them and he was heartened. _"Yes, ma'am. Thank you. I was going to call the Captain, tell him what I've found. Should I still do that?" _

"Yes, he needs to know. Hang tight, Kevin, it'll be fine." The call ended.

"What's going on?" asked Rhys through a yawn.

"Kevin's found the cone but someone's been killed. I have to head off the military." Kissing Daniel, who miraculously was still sleeping, she passed him to Rhys. "You two go to bed. I'll join you when I can."

"I can stay and help," he offered.

"Nothing you can do, love, honest. Go get some rest."

-ooOoo-

_Irkutsk, Russia_

"Anozer blini, Jack?" asked Vasili Karenchenko, gesturing to the waiter for service.

"No, thanks." Russian breakfasts were as filling as Jack remembered. He had already had two of the large pancake-like blinis, one with sour cream the other with preserve, and couldn't tackle another.

Vasili ordered a third for himself then shooed the waiter away. The FSB man was used to deferential service and what he was receiving here, in the Legenda Baikala Hotel, was not as good as he expected. He sat, elbows on the table, and scrutinised Jack. There were many legends about Jack Harkness in the various Russian security services, some dating back as far as 1918 when he was supposed to have been in the country on an abortive mission to assassinate Lenin. It did not seem possible but Vasili had been shown the top secret file and seen the photographs – this was the same man. His superiors back in Moscow had insisted on meeting Jack – still travelling under the name of Hooper, which fooled no one – but had then handed him back to Vasili; Jack was a dangerous man and if anything went wrong they wanted Vasili to carry the can.

"Have I got something on my face?" asked Jack with a smile. Of all the Russians he had met so far, this one was the most open and likeable, and he hoped they would get through this trip without mishap. Jack knew very well what would happen to Vasili if it didn't.

"No. Zorry." Vasili returned the smile. "Zo, after eating, ve follow zignal, yes?"

"Yes. I thought it might be by the river but now it looks like the lake." Jack checked his laptop, open on the table, and confirmed that the signal was unaltered and coming from the south, on the shores of Lake Baikal a little over forty miles away. "Any joy with those enquiries you were making, about people who died recently in or near water?"

"No one iz in vater in vinter, not here. Zey freeze." He shivered melodramatically and then laughed.

"I know. So, anybody?" Jack pressed.

"Pavel Andrevitch haz found two." Vasili was serious once more. "He vill zhow you in car." He sat back as the waiter returned. "Ah, at last!" He began lathering copious amounts of cream on his blini.

Deciding not to press for the information, Jack sipped his tea and gazed out of the windows at the darkness. Sunrise was still half an hour away or possibly longer, delayed by the snow flurries showing as dancing white dots through the glass. Letting his mind wander, Jack recalled the long flight and the few hours rest in his hotel room. He had been travelling for days and felt irritable. He wanted to be out and doing, getting to the bottom of these signals, but everything took so long. If only his teleport still worked, he could have made the trip from the US to here in minutes. He took a few calming breaths, determined not to lose his cool; he had to stay focussed. It was at moments like these he most missed Ianto's calming presence and lost himself in still-vivid memories. His thoughts were interrupted when his mobile, set on silent, vibrated in his pocket.

Checking the display and refreshed by thinking of his Welshman, he said cheerily, "Kevin, what can I do for you?" He listened hard, his expression changing as he learnt what had happened so far away.

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

The sun was streaming through the window when an alarm call woke Selwyn at seven. He rolled onto his back and lay still for a moment, surfacing from a heavy and dreamless sleep. Recalling that this was the day they should locate the cone, his heart sank. It was extraordinary to think that the alien device could be anywhere in this warm, sunny and peaceful place, where tourists were swimming, boating, playing tennis and enjoying all the other delights laid on for them. He heartily wished he could be out there with them.

After a shower and dressed in his only remaining clean clothes – if the laundry didn't come back today he would have to buy some more - he joined Mark Tang in the restaurant for an early breakfast of fruit, pastries and coffee. They were the only ones up so early on a Sunday morning and ate quickly and mostly in silence. At eight, they were in the Land Cruiser heading south on Highway 2 for the Austin Bay Nature Reserve. Behind them was another Cruiser with some of Mark's colleagues and yet more were awaiting them at the Reserve with boats. Selwyn had his laptop open and directed Mark into the Reserve on Old Coast Road and then onto dirt roads towards Point Birch.

"This looks like it," said Selwyn. Glancing up from the screen, he looked left onto bush and right across deep blue water fringed with reeds and other water-loving plants. A large flock of pelicans were bobbing about on the water, some hundred metres from shore. He was momentarily reminded of Lake Fork back in Texas and shuddered at what had lurked in the waters there.

Mark brought the car to a stop. "Not much here." This part of the Reserve was less popular with birdwatchers and other users of the facilities, mainly because it was less accessible.

"Probably why it was chosen."

"I'll tell Dave to get the boats over."

"Remember," said Selwyn quickly, "they're not to go in the water."

"I know, I told 'em." He got on the radio and informed his colleagues, waiting at the Visitor Centre, of their location. "Be here in about ten minutes."

"Suppose I'd better see if I can find the cone then."

Reluctantly, Selwyn got out of the Cruiser, laptop in hand. It was warm outside the air-conditioned vehicle but still fresh, especially so close to water. He walked around, missing his way and having to double back a couple of times. Mark stayed close while his ASIO colleagues stayed by the cars, some enjoying a cigarette. Finally Selwyn halted before a part-sunken concrete bunker obscured by trees about three metres from the shore.

"In here?" asked Mark, waving his colleagues over.

"Uh-huh."

Selwyn placed the laptop on the ground, crouched beside it and pulled out the notes he had made. Carefully, he checked off all the points Jack had so patiently explained and confirmed that the readings matched precisely. This was the source of the signal. Looking up, he was surprised to see Mark and the other agents, guns drawn, walking cautiously to the bunker which they circled once before coming back to the rusty metal door. When pushed, the door swung open silently on oiled hinges; someone had been here recently.

By this time Selwyn was on his feet, standing a metre behind the others, and when Mark looked inside he asked, "What can you see?"

"Not much, it's pretty dark."

"Don't blunder around in there," ordered Selwyn, anxious in case the cone was dislodged. "Get a torch," he told one of the agents. "Mark, let me have a look."

"Be my guest." Mark, surprised at Selwyn taking charge, stepped aside.

The inside of the bunker was very dark, the only light coming through the open door. Selwyn stood to one side so as not to block it and peered in. In the dimness, he recognised the shape of the cone and swallowed hard. A torch was thrust into his hand and he shone it around, confirming what he had already seen. The metre high cone was stood in the centre of the space connected by leads to a rectangular pack that had all the hallmarks of alien technology. Two small blue lights were visible on the cone above the display. It was time to call Jack.

-ooOoo-

_Lake Baikal, Russia_

The call reached Jack ten minutes after he had located the final cone.

It had taken only twenty minutes to travel along well-maintained roads from Irkutsk, long enough to hear about the two men found frozen to death within a few metres of the lake. Jack dismissed one as being too old and law-abiding and concentrated on the other, Nicolas Baranshikov, who was in his 30s and known to the police as a petty criminal. He had been found in ice close to the shore of the lake and after a cursory investigation it was ruled an accident. Jack did not think so and through Vasili arranged for Nicolas' wife back in town to be interviewed immediately; Jack hoped for a lead to the paymasters.

Following the signal, they arrived at the side of the lake. It was still snowing, a light fall but it restricted visibility on an already gloomy morning. With all his cold weather gear on, including the fur hat and lined boots and gloves, Jack led the way through the fir trees and down a treacherous slope to the pebbly shore. Vasili, surprisingly light on his feet for such a big man, accompanied him with the technician Pavel, unused to field work, stumbling along in their wake. The snow and ice was more evident close to the water which had begun to freeze.

"It vaz here," said Vasili, pointing not far out into the lake. "Baranshikov vas found here."

"Good, that confirms we've got the right man."

Jack continued along the shore until faced with a huge boulder. Moving around it, he lost the signal and had to turn back only to again be faced with the boulder. He tried again with the same result until finally, after several frustrating minutes, Vasili noticed a narrow crevasse in the rock. Breathing in, Jack pushed his way through to a cave and there, sitting on a ledge, was the cone and an Ouperist power pack. Water lapped at his feet as Jack crossed to the ledge for a closer look.

Vasili, having also just managed to squeeze through the crevasse, joined him. "Zis is it?" he asked.

"It is. Hold this for me," he handed over a torch, "and shine it here while I check it out."

He examined the display and in particular the symbols running along the bottom. Pretty sure they were the same as those on the cone in Yantis, Jack checked anyway and confirmed they were both Ouperist, a programming language used across vast swathes of the universe. A further check and he identified these as co-ordinates, probably to open an inter-dimensional portal. All four sets of symbols would be needed before he could pinpoint a location but his best guess was still Western Europe. The remainder of the display was definitely a countdown and matched that in Yantis.

Pavel Gavrilov appeared through the crevasse; younger and thinner than his colleague, he slipped through easily. In Russian he gave an excited message to Vasili which was then translated for Jack.

"Baranshikov's vife zays her husband vork for Boris Modin. Local criminal boss. Ve find him."

"Good, should give us a lead." At this point Jack received Selwyn's call, and had to search through several layers to get to the mobile in his trouser pocket. "Selwyn, how are things with you?"

"_We have the cone. I'm standing right by it." _

"Excellent. That's the last one, Kevin got to his earlier and I've just found mine. Be careful, those creatures got one of Kevin's team. They must be guarding all the locations."

"_I've been telling them."_ Selwyn looked round and spotted one of the ASIO men standing on the beach, calling across to his colleagues in the boats out on the water. _"Damn. Hang on, Jack, they're not listening to me." _He stormed up to the man and dragged him back shouting about the need to be careful.

Checking the cave, Jack saw both Vasili and Pavel standing close to the opening to the lake, talking in Russian. "Get back here," he ordered. "There are –" Even as he spoke a thick, black sinuous body rose out of the water at their feet.


	24. Chapter 19

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Nineteen

_Lake Baikal, Russia_

When the snake-creature appeared, Jack forgot about his telephone call and drew his Webley. Shouting at Vasili and Pavel to get out of the cave, he loosed off a shot barely missing the two Russians who, until this point, had not seen the danger. Alarmed, the men moved fast but not quite fast enough. Vasili, despite being the bigger man, leapt for the ledge and hauled himself up out of the water. Pavel hesitated for a fraction too long and was bitten on the ankle. Before the creature got a firm hold, Jack fired again. The retort of Vasili's Gyurza pistol echoed the Webley's next two shots and the creature writhed in pain as the bullets tore into its black hide. Seconds later it disappeared under the water leaving behind a slick of oily ichor on the surface.

"Vot vas zat?" asked Vasili, eyes searching the water. He held his pistol in a two handed grip, ready for action, and did not move to help his colleague who had collapsed in a heap.

"Guard dogs. And they hunt in packs." Jack grabbed Pavel by the coat collar and towed him across the cave, as far as possible from the opening the creatures had used. Bending, he checked his breathing – shallow but detectable. "He's alive. They paralyse then drag their victims under the water to drown." He looked up at Vasili, edging across the cave while taking care to stay out of the water. "Better get him a doctor." The injured man was also soaked from lying in the water and in these cold temperatures he could freeze to death.

Vasili nodded, still watching the water and the opening to the lake, concerned for his own safety rather than the fate of his colleague. As he reached into a pocket for his abandoned mobile, Jack compared Vasili's reaction to Hiram Wendover's, the FBI man. Both had lost colleagues to the snake-creatures but their responses could not have been more different. Jack recognised both. For years he had been ruthless and uncaring, focussed on the job at hand and not allowing other people's misfortunes to affect him, just as Vasili was now. Only when he had got together his own Torchwood team - Suzie, Toshiko, Owen, Ianto and Gwen - had he learnt what trust, caring and finally love truly meant. Now he was glad to be like Hiram, concerned for the fate of others.

"_Jack, you there? You okay?"_ The tinny voice reached Jack as he put the mobile to his ear.

"I'm here. Had a visit from one of the creatures. Scared it off but not before it grazed one of my support team."

"_I'm sorry. I've got my lot under control, they're all at least four metres from the shore." _

"Good, keep it that way. One minute." He helped Vasili, who had finally arrived at Pavel's side, get the unconscious man through the crevasse. With them both outside calling in help, Jack was alone in the cave and turned his mind to the cone. "Selwyn, I'm going need the readings from your cone. And set your laptop up for a web link, full encryption, in one hour. I need a four way link between me, you, Kevin and Hiram. Got that?"

"_Okay. What about Gwen? We need to tell her what's going on." _

"Leave that to me, you concentrate on getting those readings. I'll be back in touch in thirty minutes or so."

Jack ended the call and immediately speed dialled Hiram Wendover in Texas, not sure what the time was there but correctly assuming it would take him longest to get set up. His next call was to Kevin, camped out at the hut on the Falklands with a couple of squaddies for company; or maybe as guards, it wasn't too clear. The person he did not call was Gwen. She was not going to like what he had in mind and he didn't want to give her the opportunity to stop the others – with whom she had more sway than Jack did – following his orders. His time working with her and the old team may have softened some of Jack's rough edges but not all of them.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

Daniel Williams had not learnt to distinguish weekdays, when his parents had to get up early, from weekends when they preferred a lie-in and a lazy start to the day. To Daniel every day was the same: long hours of sleep, some play, meals and watching what went on around him and learning from it all. On this Sunday morning, he lay in his cot looking up at the colourful mobile above him but not for long. His bottom was wet and he was hungry.

With a groan Rhys dragged himself from bed to answer his son's cries, not stopping to cover his nakedness. It was 5.26 and still dark outside. Gwen's side of the bed had not been slept in and he wondered what had kept her. As he automatically lifted Daniel from the cot, comforted and changed him, Rhys pondered the changes of the past week. Jack had come back on Monday and since then the Torchwood team, and Gwen in particular, had been thrown into the middle of a gathering crisis. The team had been dispersed all over the world while those remaining in Cardiff had worked all hours. It was difficult not to blame Jack though Rhys was - finally - detached enough to understand the man did not create the problems, merely insisted on getting involved and drew others in with him. As he secured the clean nappy on Daniel, Rhys thanked his lucky stars that at least this time Gwen had not been put in danger. She was here, in Cardiff, admittedly having to deal with angry military, No.10 and co-ordinate with the Network all round the world, which was hardly a walk in the park, but at least no one was shooting at her.

"Come on, son, let's find Mummy." He carried the adorably rumpled baby downstairs. The light was on in the front room and, standing in the doorway, Rhys looked down on his wife, lying on the couch where she had fallen asleep. Dribble had dried on her chin, her hair was a mess and her make up was blotchy but to him she still looked beautiful. And uncomfortable – her neck and one arm were bent at awkward angles – she'd better move. "Wake up, love." He shook her gently.

With a start, Gwen woke and immediately groaned. She had no feeling in the arm beneath her and it hurt to move her head. "What's happened?" she croaked, massaging her arm.

"Danny woke. Go and get into bed, get some decent sleep," he urged. "I'll get this one some juice."

Rotating her head slowly to ease the kink in her neck, she smiled up at him. "Gonna join me?"

"Could be arranged." He bent and gave her a lingering kiss then went into the kitchen, waggling his bare bottom.

Gwen sat up, easing cramped muscles and looking forward to lazy sex with Rhys. They didn't get much opportunity now the baby had arrived and she missed it, both the physical satisfaction and being held afterwards. Papers were strewn on the floor around the couch and she stooped to retrieve them, groaning again when muscles protested. Telephone calls to various senior military officers had achieved their objective. Kevin would be allowed to complete his mission, the investigation into the death of the soldier put on the back burner for at least twenty four hours and the people on the ground would look into who had placed the cone. Buried under some notes, Gwen found her mobile and checked it automatically. Half a dozen text messages waited in the in-box and, without thinking, she opened the first. She read this and the remaining texts with a growing sense of disbelief and anger.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck," she spat out.

"That was what I had in mind," said Rhys, grinning from the doorway. Daniel was in his arms contentedly sucking on a bottle of juice. "You ready for some loving?" He stopped when he saw her expression. "What's happened?"

"Bloody Jack Harkness, that's what's happened!"

"That bloke will do anything to stop you and me shagging."

"Not funny." She was on her feet, pacing back and forth. "He's only gone and sent the whole kit and caboodle here. For once we could have let the French take the brunt of a bloody invasion but no, that's not good enough for Jack bloody Harkness. He has to divert it into our laps. Damn him!"

"Calm down, love, and tell me –"

"I can't calm down! In thirty six hours Cardiff has to be ready to repel a sodding invasion!"

As his wife ranted, Rhys placed Daniel in the crook of an armchair, propped up with cushions. He went to Gwen and stopped her incessant pacing, holding her still by force. His previously benign thoughts towards Jack had soured; if Gwen was hurt, Harkness would die, die and die again at Rhys' own hands.

"Gwen, I can't help if you don't explain. No, listen to me," he said when she started to interrupt. "Tell me it all, in order. Come on, come and sit down."

Sitting side by side, Gwen took several deep breaths and said, "All the cones have been found, the ones sending out the signals. The information from them was pooled and … somehow or other, they discovered the 'event', whatever it is, will occur at 15.00 tomorrow afternoon." She flicked the texts, reading Jack's terse messages. "Extrapolating the four sets of co-ordinates, they plotted the site of this 'event' to Lourdes in France."

"Where there's been all those sightings," put in Rhys. "That was the first place, wasn't it?"

"I think so."

"Yeah, it was. France then Ireland and finally that place in Africa." The newspapers and television news reports had been full of the details and the effect the mass movement of pilgrims was having on industry, infrastructure and national economies. Also, the religious significance had been debated over and over in special programmes, and in sermons across the land.

"Abeche. In Chad. Anyway Jack, in his wisdom," she said scornfully, "decided not to leave well alone. He got the others – Kevin, Selwyn and Hiram – to alter the co-ordinates. It's now going to happen here. In the Millennium Stadium to be precise!"

"The Stadium? Not going to muck up the pitch, is it? There's an match on Wednesday."

"Somehow, Rhys, I don't think football is our main concern."

"No, 'course not. Sorry, love." He smiled contritely. "Do we know what this … event is going to be?"

She sighed, resigned to the effects of Jack's precipitate actions. It had been dangerous to fiddle with the co-ordinates once, trying again to get it away from Cardiff would be foolhardy. Besides, now she was calm enough to think straight, she had to admit to a frisson of excitement. Staying in Cardiff while everyone else had been on the move, taking action, had been difficult but she had done it for her family's sake and because she was the best person to undertake the role. But now the action was coming to her she felt a rush of adrenalin at the thought of being in the thick of it.

"Not for sure but there is a lead. The FSB tracked down the guy who ordered the placing of their cone and got the information from him." She did not allow herself to think how they had got the information, torture was a real possibility. "Some little-known sect in Eastern Europe apparently. I'm going to have to follow this up, urgently, because Jack has made himself scarce again."

"What?"

"Very conveniently for him, he's on a plane back to Moscow. I bet he did it so he could be out of reach of my tongue."

Rhys thought that was highly likely but wisely did not say so. "You're exhausted, Gwen. You can't carry on without sleep." He glanced at the clock. "It's not six yet, have a couple of hours kip at least."

She shook her head. "I'm good for a bit longer. I promise I'll take a nap soon as I can, after I've got things moving. I'll have to get Lois in and we may need Alonso." She paused, thinking of all she needed to do.

"Before you do anything, go and get a shower while I cook breakfast. I'm not letting you leave without a meal inside you. Go on." He pushed her towards the door. "I'll get Danny organised too."

"Thanks, sweetheart. Come here." She landed a big slobbery kiss on his lips. "Better get dressed before you start frying, don't want burning fat landing in sensitive places!" She slapped his bare arse.

"Oy!" he danced back out of reach.

"And I haven't hello to you yet, little man. Aren't I a bad Mummy?" She bent over Daniel and gently kissed the top of his head, drinking in the special baby smell. Tearing herself away, she resolutely left the room promising to spend more time with him when the crisis was over.

-ooOoo-

_Lourdes, France_

The night train from Paris pulled into the station at 6.43, three minutes ahead of schedule. About half the passengers roused themselves and alighted onto the brightly-lit platform, some heading for their homes and others, the pilgrims and general tourists, getting their bearings before walking or taking taxis to their hotels. The remainder of the passengers, those with couchettes or berths, stayed where they were; they had until nine to vacate the train.

Ilie Roman had not had a the luxury of a bed on the train. He had slept in an uncomfortable seat in the same clothes he had been wearing for the past two days spent crossing Europe by train and plane. Standing on the platform he was exhausted but also elated. In a day and a half The Lady would arrive and he, a nobody from a nowhere place, would be ranked among the most influential men on the planet. Thinking of the power that would be his, he giggled, an edge of hysteria in the high-pitched sound. People looked at him warily and left plenty of room around him attracting the notice of a gendarme, Charles Mauroux, who routinely met the night train to watch for undesirables. The poorly-dressed man, who could be rural French or foreign, fitted a number of criteria for further investigation and Mauroux walked across to him.

"Papers," he ordered, holding out a hand for the identity card all French citizens were required to carry or a passport.

Ilie's laughter hiccupped to a stop as he recognised a figure of authority. When the order was repeated, Ilie understood the word and produced his passport. The gendarme flicked through it, finding the appropriate entry stamps; as a Romanian, Ilie was allowed to enter France, another member of the EU, without restriction. A short conversation in broken French followed and Mauroux had no reason to delay Ilie any further. He watched as the man disappeared into the crowd but determined to check up at his _pension_ later in the day. There was something about him that alerted all the gendarme's instincts for a 'wrong-un'.

-ooOoo-

_Falkland Islands_

Lieutenant Timothy Walker arrived at the camp on the Bay of Harbours in the early hours of the morning. His usually routine job had been turned upside down ever since Kevin Heggerty had arrived in the Islands. His simple mission to find a signal had resulted in the death of Private Terry Stokes and it had fallen to Lieutenant Walker to look into the circumstances and begin the procedures for a formal enquiry. He had barely got started before orders direct from the Chief of the Defence Staff had halted everything; all action was to be put on hold for a minimum of twenty four hours. When told, Commodore Partridge had not liked it but orders were orders and Lieutenant Walker had been charged with keeping a lid on the affair. He had also been given the task of attempting to locate whoever – military or civilian – had set up the signal in the first place. It was that second responsibility that had brought him to the camp.

A four man tent was set up about ten metres from the hut in the most sheltered spot Sergeant Mills could find. Two men sat beside a fire blazing in front of the tent, rising to their feet when they saw the Land Rover approach and the Lieutenant get out. Sergeant Mills stepped forward. "Sir."

"Sergeant. Report."

"All quiet, sir. I'm taking first watch while Corporal Riley gets some shut-eye. Mr Heggerty has been monitoring the cone."

Walker looked across at Kevin, hovering a metre or so away. "Mr Heggerty, as your signal has caused me no end of trouble, I think you'd better show it to me."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Kevin joined the other two men; Gwen had told him to cooperate. "I am sorry about Terry, sir. I should have warned him but –" Realising he was rambling, Kevin stopped talking.

"The signal?" prompted Walker.

"This way, sir."

Kevin led the way to the hut by the light of a portable lantern. Over the next fifteen minutes, with some expert coaxing, he explained how he had discovered the original signal, the other three and the conclusions Torchwood had drawn. Next he explained all he knew about how the cones worked, quite quickly losing the Lieutenant in the complexities. Finally they discussed the snake-creatures and Private Stokes' death. Walker let him talk. Used to dealing with men of all backgrounds, he judged Kevin was an expert in his field but naïve in other ways. Essentially harmless, Kevin still needed to be watched carefully if Walker was to protect his own position.


	25. Chapter 20

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty

_Cardiff_

If working Saturdays was unusual for the new Torchwood, working on a Sunday was even more so. Alone in the office for several hours, Gwen made a pot of coffee and retreated to her office. She sent an email to the No. 10 duty officer, copied to Kwame Olongo, informing them that the sightings were alien in origin leaving them to decide what to do with the information. Next she got the reports from the Network contacts around the world, searching for mention of a religious sect that worshipped 'The Lady' probably based in Eastern Europe. There was nothing concrete but the Greeks had included details of a rumour of something along these lines which had reached them from Romania. Gwen sent urgent requests for more details to the Network in Romania and surrounding countries and continued looking.

At 7.30, Gwen called in Lois who arrived an hour later having stopped for pastries and drinks at an all-night supermarket. Despite repeated attempts, Gwen was unable to raise Alonso. Deciding it wasn't essential to have him in the office, although his technical expertise could be needed, she eventually gave up. After briefing Lois and getting her started on a search of her own, Gwen consulted the time zone chart and rang Selwyn in Australia where it was late afternoon. She caught him at the hotel, confirmed nothing had changed his end and tore him off a strip for trusting Jack. While this made her feel better at the time, she regretted it almost immediately and sent a text to apologise. It was too early to contact Kevin and Jack was still in the air. She tried Alonso again, letting the phone ring for several minutes; he still did not answer.

"Lois, I can't get hold of Alonso," she called, walking towards Lois' office. "I'm going to – Oh, sorry." She halted in the doorway when she saw Lois was on the phone.

"I see. Yes. Hold on, please, Ms Cooper has just come into the office." Lois muted the phone. "It's No. 10. The Duty Officer passed on your message about the sightings to the Cabinet. The Church representative is up in arms. Wants to know what we're basing our information on."

"Brilliant. Who's the rep at the moment?"

"Archbishop Nichols, Catholic leader in England and Wales."

"It had to be him." The Catholic Church had a greater reverence for Mary than the other Christian denominations and were naturally going to take news the sightings were bogus harder than anyone else. "It's No. 10's problem, not ours."

"Do you mind telling them that?" Lois waved the handset hopefully.

"Okay. But I can't raise Alonso. I was going to go round there and roust him out. Can you go instead?"

"Sure."

Gwen took the handset. "Wait until I've got this lot back in their cage."

Unfortunately, smoothing ruffled feathers in No. 10 took a lot longer than Gwen had anticipated. When she and Lois had been engaged in the fruitless conversation for ten minutes, they despatched someone else to get Alonso. So it was that he was roused from his bed by Rhys pounding on his front door.

"There you are. Thought I was going to have to break the door down," said Rhys when the door finally opened. "Blimey, you look awful."

"Drank a bit too much," mumbled Alonso. He shuffled back into the flat to allow Rhys, who was carrying Daniel in his portable car seat, to follow. In the kitchen he got water from the fridge, gulping it down thirstily.

"That's pretty obvious." Rhys looked round the flat, taking in the mess that Alonso had created since Lois' tidying up and itching to do something about it. He placed the sleeping Daniel on the table. "What started you off?"

"Nothing."

"Don't believe that. Out with it."

Alonso gulped more water, emptying the bottle, while he thought about what to say. Gradually, and with prompting from Rhys, it all came out.

Since leaving the Torchwood offices the previous evening, Alonso had sat in the flat on his own with only his own thoughts for company. Gwen and Lois had listened to him, had seemed to understand that the crestinoni in the atmosphere was being removed by Irakii miners, but then had decided there was nothing to be done. Working his way through a six-pack of beer and a litre bottle of vodka, watching television even he thought inane, Alonso had become angry then depressed that they didn't understand the importance of what he had found. The crestinoni was not a renewable resource; once it was gone, it was gone. And when that happened, life on Earth would cease. Around midnight, while still in control of his faculties, Alonso had called Jack hoping to get him to talk to Gwen but when he finally got through Jack had been too busy to talk, too caught up in the signals. Despite promising to call back he had not, and Alonso, feeling even more sorry for himself, had finished the booze and fallen into bed in the early hours of the morning.

"No one's listening to me," he concluded, crushing the plastic bottle. "Even Jack's ignoring me. He said he would call and he hasn't." There was a definite pout in his words.

"He's on his way back," Rhys told him, surprised to find himself defending Jack. "Whatever those signals are sending our way will be here tomorrow. Right here, in Cardiff, and Jack's flying back to be ready for it."

"For it, not for me. Or for the drug smuggling." Frustrated, Alonso threw the crushed bottle across the room.

Rhys shrugged. "That's Jack. He focuses on the most important problem and expects everyone to understand, it's never the other way round. Look, Gwen's had to go into work and she asked me to come and get you. She needs you, Alonso, and I promise I'll get her to listen to you about the drug stuff. Will you come?"

"I suppose."

"Good lad. Go and get washed and dressed then. Want some breakfast? I could do you something."

"Okay." Alonso slouched out of the room, a little heartened at hearing Jack was coming home but still unhappy.

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

The sun was setting as Selwyn arrived back at Point Birch, driven by one of Mark's colleagues. The scene had changed in his few hours away. A generator throbbed rhythmically. Floodlights had been rigged up and one was already on, illuminating the five RVs brought in to give the guards and visitors somewhere to sleep. Two large plastic tables and some chairs were placed next to a makeshift barbecue; three men were eating grilled prawns while drinking from cans. A large refrigerator added its electric hum to the noise. Almost hidden from sight, and nearer the water's edge, was the concrete bunker, the focus of this activity. Beyond patches of tall reeds and backlit by the setting sun, two motorboats rested at anchor a few metres from shore.

Mark Tang walked out of the group and met Selwyn. "You're in here with me." He gestured to the nearest RV. "Dump your things and come get something from the barbie."

"Thanks." Selwyn put a small duffel bag, bought in the hotel shop, containing his overnight things in the RV. The vehicle was well-appointed with two narrow single beds, a small seating area and toilet and shower. This would be home until events reached their conclusion in Cardiff in about twenty eight hours' time. Joining the others, he asked, "Anything been happening here?"

"Nope, quiet as can be. Beer?" Mark held out a can.

"I'll check the cone first. Everyone keeping well back from the water?"

"Yes." The reply was more a sigh than a word.

"It's important, Mark," stressed Selwyn, facing him. "There's been one death in the Falklands and a guy's in the hospital in Russia. I don't want that here."

"I know." Mark didn't feel it necessary to apologise. He and his colleagues knew their job and had heard and understood the warning, Selwyn didn't need to repeat it so often.

"Okay."

In the bunker, always guarded by an armed ASIO agent, Selwyn checked the cone and his laptop, left open alongside. The signal was still being transmitted and all the readings were as they had been. Changing the co-ordinates did not appear to have upset the countdown. He remembered Gwen's tongue-lashing for going along with Jack on that and cringed. He had deserved it, had known that Jack was a maverick who went this own way, and yet he had blindly followed his lead. Gwen's generous apology later only strengthened Selwyn's resolve never to be disloyal in that way again. He wondered what arrangements she was making in Cardiff and wished again that she had accepted his offer to return; if Vasili Karenchenko could be trusted to watch over the cone in Irkutsk, Mark Tang could do the same here at Mandurah. Gwen, however, had thought otherwise and insisted Selwyn remain where he was.

Leaving the bunker, he joined the other men and two women gathering round the barbecue. If he had to be stuck somewhere far from the action at least this place had all the facilities one needed.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

Alonso rode with Rhys and Daniel to the Torchwood base leaving the Espace at the Penarth apartment. Turning the last corner, Rhys called Gwen and asked that for the gate to be opened but still had to wait a few minutes. As they waited, Alonso leant over from the back entertaining the gurgling baby who was in his backward-facing chair on the front seat.

"You let me talk to Gwen, all right?" said Rhys. "Don't go off half-cocked, it'll only start an argument. I know how to handle her." He had many years' practice.

"If you say so." Having shared his problem and eaten a good breakfast – his hangovers never put him off food - Alonso felt better but he underneath he was still smarting from being ignored.

The gates finally opened and Rhys drove through and parked. Together the two men unloaded Daniel and the bags of baby paraphernalia and walked into the building. They dumped the bags in Selwyn's room and joined Gwen and Lois in the former's office.

"Typical, world's about to end and you've still got time for coffee," said Rhys putting Daniel, still in his chair, on the meeting table.

"We've earnt it." Gwen rose and came to the baby. "Hello, sweetheart, come and cheer up Mummy." She deftly undid the restraining straps and picked him up. "Did you find Alonso?"

"Yeah, he's right … Well, he was right behind me. 'Lonso? Where've you gone, mate?" Rhys peered into the corridor. Empty.

"He's probably in the workshop," said Lois. "I'll go and find him. Would you like a coffee, Rhys?"

"Please." He closed the door after her and turned to Gwen, back in her chair bouncing Daniel on her knee. "We need to talk," he said, taking the chair Lois had been using.

"I know. You won't believe it but No. 10 is only wanting us to deny the existence of the signals, ignore the invasion or whatever it is that's coming and stop liaising with the Network. Have they learnt nothing! And do you know why? Because the religious leaders don't like it that the sightings of Mary are fake. I mean, who runs the country?"

"That's not what I want to talk about. Alonso's upset. Got pissed last night because you aren't listening to him. Here, wipe his chin." He held out a muslin square.

Wiping the small amount of milky sick from her son's chin, Gwen said, "I have been a bit busy you know."

"I know, but this drug thing sounds important. According to Alonso it'll wipe out life on Earth and you're just ignoring it."

"I am not! We talked about it last night." She was defensive, surprised Rhys was so determined.

"Well he says you're not doing anything and you should be," said Rhys seriously. "The whole thing sounds bloody dangerous to me. I'm going to find him, and that coffee." He left the office.

Gwen stared after him until Daniel stared to grizzle for attention. Grateful for the diversion, she fussed over him while considering what Rhys had said. It was rare for her husband to take a stand on anything. Rhys was easy-going and amenable to most things which did not make him a doormat, far from it, but he usually took the path of least resistance especially where Gwen was concerned. For him to confront her like this made her anxious. Had she really missed a trick with the drug connection? The signals appeared much more serious, more urgent anyway. Jack had said the crestinoni depletion would not come to a head for a while – was he wrong? She had listened to Alonso the previous night but had she heard what he was trying to say? Was her phobia for anything technical getting in the way of her understanding the problem?

Standing, she went to the window. Daniel quietened, watching the play of light and the scudding clouds. They would probably have more rain before the day was out. Gwen felt very alone. Being the boss was isolating but until now the decisions she had been called upon to make were routine. Faced with two potentially devastating threats to Earth's security, had she made the wrong call? She wished Owen were here to sarkily tell her off, Toshiko to find an ingenious technical solution and Ianto to make a dry comment that put everything into perspective. But most of all, she wished Jack were here and she was no longer in charge. He made these decisions look so easy, even when they meant the death of people he loved. People she loved … That was something else she had to talk to Rhys about.

Rhys came back into the office, a reluctant Alonso in tow. "I've brought Alonso so we can have a proper talk. Let me have Danny, you need to concentrate."

"Okay." She meekly passed the baby to Rhys and gestured Alonso to join her at the meeting table. "I'm sorry if I've upset you, Alonso. Tell me what I'm missing."

Alonso glanced at Rhys who nodded encouragingly, then launched into his complaint. "It's like I told you. The crestinoni is being harvested by Irakii scavengers. They've got a load in Sector 14 almost ready to go. They could be here any minute. If you don't do something they'll be gone before you can catch them." He looked up as Lois entered the room with a tray of coffees and felt heartened; she believed him.

"But like I told you last night," began Gwen, "I don't have spaceships of my own to catch these Irakiis. I'll have to involve UNIT and they'll need solid evidence before they act." The loss of the _Valiant_ when the Daleks had moved Earth had made UNIT wary of risking their sole remaining ship, the _Ark Royal_, without good cause.

"She's right," said Lois. "We'll need to prove that the Irakiis are on their way or better still here before UNIT will move. Can your scanners pick up their ships' signatures?"

"Yes." His face lit up. "Yes, they can. I can scan around Sector 14, see what's going on."

"In the meantime, we could contact Brigadier Burke-Tarkleton." Lois looked enquiringly at Gwen. "If we gave him an unofficial heads-up, they would be able to respond quickly when we need them."

"Do it. He seems friendly enough." Gwen laid a hand on Alonso's and met his gaze. "We are taking you seriously, Alonso. Please don't think we're not."

"Thank you. Sorry if I was a bit … pushy. I'll go and set up the scanner." He moved his chair back and stood. "Thanks, Rhys."

"No problem but I do have one question before you go." They all looked at him. "Where is this Sector 14? 'Cos if it's bloody well over Wales, I'll scream."

-ooOoo-

_Moscow, Russia_

An icy blast of sleety snow greeted Jack as he emerged from Domodevo Airport. Five centimetres of snow lay on the ground, churned up by the baggage carts and other service vehicles. With his greatcoat fully buttoned and the flaps of his recently acquired fur hat down over his ears, Jack kept his head bowed and headed away from the baggage handlers and round the side of the building. His flight had landed early and in the mass of disembarking passengers he had managed to avoid the FSB handlers waiting for him. It might be foolish, but Jack wanted a few hours of freedom before he had to make his next connection. That was also why he did not call Gwen; she was only going to shout at him.

Dodging anyone who might challenge him, he attached himself to the rear of a group of workers and walked out through the gate without being stopped. After walking for twenty minutes, he reached a residential area and ducked into a cheap restaurant for a late lunch. His Russian was good enough to order borscht and vodka, taking a corner table at the back of the room where he could use his laptop without being observed. He stayed there for two hours, fortified by the food and excellent vodka, and checked all the information Gwen had sent him – she may be angry but she was still keeping him in the loop – before doing some serious research of his own. The additional programs he had had Kevin load into the laptop came in very handy when he wanted to get into records others would rather keep private. By the time he left the restaurant, he had a much clearer idea of what was likely to arrive in Cardiff in just over twenty four hours.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to deal with it.


	26. Chapter 21

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty One

_Cardiff_

The parish church was empty except for a deacon re-aligning the chairs after the morning service. Gwen nodded to the young deacon but did not approach him, she was here for peace and quiet not conversation. The familiar scent of flowers and candles assailed her as she walked up the aisle to the side chapel kept for those who wished to pray. There were only half a dozen chairs in the little chapel and a small altar. Three candles lit in memory of loved ones still burned on the stand near the altar and Gwen lit one of her own.

"For you all," she murmured, thinking of Toshiko, Owen and Ianto.

Sitting, she stared at the stained glass window of St Peter and lost herself in thought. Prayer did not come easily to Gwen but she whispered a few conventional words and felt the peace of her surroundings sooth her troubled mind. After some minutes letting her mind empty, she methodically addressed all the issues vying for her attention and worked out what she was going to do with each before putting them in order of importance. First, she had to speak to Jack when they could locate him; he had gone AWOL and the Russian authorities were up in arms. She didn't blame them – who wanted Jack Harkness on the lose? – but had declined to be intimidated by their threats. Far more important was picking his brains about the 'event' he had so calmly diverted into her lap; she had preparations to make. Second, and potentially the most difficult, she had to persuade Rhys to take Daniel out of Cardiff; she did not want the two of them caught up in this thing. Third was following up the leads to the sect behind the 'event'. If the Network could locate the instigators they would not only have more information to play with they might also be able to stop the whole thing. She revised her mental list and put this before getting Rhys to leave.

A low fourth came the meeting with Burke-Tarkleton. He had been receptive to their informal approach about using the _Ark Royal_ to nab the drug smugglers but would not commit himself without a lot more information. Perhaps she could leave that meeting to Lois and Alonso who knew more about it. Finally, she had to keep in touch with her team around the world. She was confident Selwyn would be able to handle matters in Australia but she had not heard anything from Kevin in the Falklands for a while. And there was Hiram Wendover in Texas and Vasili Karenchenko in Siberia who shouldn't be forgotten either. While all this was still fresh in her mind, she jotted down the points on her Blackberry.

Felling better for taking time out to organise her thoughts, Gwen left the church and drove back to base. Halfway back she remembered to turn to on her mobile, it rang almost immediately. Ignoring the law about not using the phone while driving, she checked the display and punched the button. "What is it, Lois?"

"Jack's been in contact, wants to talk to you. And MOD have sent us the results of their enquiry about who might have planted the cone in the Falklands." Lois sounded angry. "It's a whitewash."

Gwen realised her peace was not going to last long. "I'm on my way back, be about ten minutes. Tell Jack I'll call him then and we'll talk about the MOD after, okay?"

"Jack's still on the line, he's talking to Alonso. I'll see you soon." Lois ended the call.

At a junction, Gwen considered turning right, picking up Rhys and the baby – they were now at home – and taking off to some isolated backwater until the panic was over. It was very tempting but she knew she would never do it. Jack had taught her to well. She turned left.

-ooOoo-

_Lourdes, France_

The _pension_ was a four story narrow house in a back street, off the beaten track for those seeking a cure at the Lourdes Grotto or pilgrims hoping for a sight of the Virgin Mary. This _pension_ catered for middle ranking businessmen who did not have the money for hotels and liked the homely atmosphere. Its owner, Madame Leveque, was concerned by her new guest – Ilie Roman was not the sort she normally took in – but the reservation had come via one of her regulars and was only for three nights. She gave him one of the small rooms at the back over the kitchen and determined to keep an eye on him.

Ilie considered his room very comfortable. The brass bed, wardrobe and table were good quality, solid pieces of furniture of a kind he had rarely seen before, while the en-suite bathroom with constant hot water was nothing short of luxurious. At half past seven that Sunday morning, he was in the bath washing off the dust of days of travel before lying on the deep mattress for a couple of hours' sleep. Waking refreshed and dressed only in underwear and trousers, Ilie opened his laptop and checked the state of the signals. Finding they were all still transmitting, as expected, he looked no further. He brought up the website of the newspaper covering his home in Romania and scanned its pages for reports of a death at the station. And there it was, one paragraph with the bare details.

'_The man's body found yesterday stabbed to death at the railway station has been identified as that of Dimitri Petrescu, 39. Anyone with information about the death is urged to contact the police.'_

Ilie read this through a number of times. Dimitri had been identified quicker than he had anticipated but it made no difference. No one had seen the killing and he doubted anyone knew what Dimitri was doing at the station. Besides, even if by a fluke some connection was made to Ilie, it would take days for the authorities to find him. Dismissing the matter, Ilie went to his mail box. Two messages awaited his attention. The first was from Auben Dupont seeking confirmation that the Patriarch had arrived; Ilie replied immediately repeating his thanks for the man's help in Paris.

The second message shocked Ilie to the core and he cried out in alarm. Jumping up from his chair, he paced back and forth wailing at the turn of events. The cones had been found! After all his care at placing them in remote areas they had been found! He berated the priests on whom he had had to rely and the criminals they had chosen for the task. This was the priests' doing, they were attempting to undermine his position with The Lady, to replace him. It was not to be, he would not let it happen!

Hammering on the door cut across his distressed and angry cries. "What's going on in there?" demanded Madame Leveque. "What are you doing? Open this door at once."

Pulling himself together, Ilie did as she demanded and stepped aside when she stormed in to check the room. He endured her angry questions and apologised when she caught her breath. He had received some bad news, had forgotten where he was, was very sorry for disturbing her.

"This is a decent house, monsieur. I do not expect my guests to make such a noise, especially on the Sabbath. Any more and you will be out. Understand?" She planted her feet and glared at him.

"I understand, Madame. And I apologise again."

When she had gone, Ilie returned to his laptop. The interruption had helped focus his mind on the problem and he was calm as he typed in instructions to his informant.

-ooOoo-

_Moscow, Russia_

Internet cafés were everywhere and Jack had no problem finding one near the airport. He had made friends with a gaggle of holidaying Norwegians who had brought him to this place. Still toting his bag and laptop, he had paid for a booth designed for private web chats and settled himself, adding an additional layer of security in case any FSB agents had found him. The image on his screen at this moment was a head and shoulders shot of Alonso Frame. The young man had been distant at first but this had not lasted as Jack had explained what he had been doing and why. They got to talking about the intergalactic drug smugglers.

"I'm impressed, Al, and I'm sorry I'm not there to help."

Alonso shrugged. _"You were needed elsewhere. I've missed you." _

"Missed you too." Jack smiled, happy to say what Alonso needed to hear. "You know if you want company I won't mind."

"_I know but I don't." _A pause. _"Have you?"_ Their relationship was not exclusive, both had had other partners without damaging the connection they had made to one another. Nevertheless, Alonso wanted Jack to answer in the negative.

"Nope, haven't been in one place long enough!" chuckled Jack.

"_Hasn't stopped you before. You only went out for ousers on Reqina Prime and managed to bag those twins!" _They laughed together at the memory of other races and other planets.

"Not this trip and not on this planet. You've seen for yourself how repressed they are. Mind you, there's a good-looking guy in charge of this place so who knows, I might get lucky." Jack waggled his eyebrows and was pleased Alonso continued to laugh.

"_I'll have to make the most of today then. With you back tomorrow there's not much time to –"_ Alonso broke off, looking to one side. _"Gwen's back. You'll be wanting to talk to her." _

"I have to talk to her, Al, I want to talk to you."

"_Bet you say that to all the guys."_ The young man felt his cheeks and ears grow warm and he ducked his head to avoid Jack's gaze. Even over 1,500 miles Jack's sexual attraction was undimmed.

They continued to chat for a few more minutes until Alonso said goodbye. The image on Jack's screen changed to the Torchwood boardroom where Gwen sat, with Lois beside her, surrounded by piles of papers. "Hi, Gwen, Lois."

Gwen did not reply. She was trying hard to hold onto the peace she had found in church but the pressures of work were already encroaching and she had only been back in the office five minutes. _"Jack,"_ she said finally, _"I suppose I should be flattered it's not just me you're avoiding." _

"I needed some time, Gwen. Time to go over all the information you and Lois have sent me and to do a bit of digging myself." He did not apologise and she noted the omission.

"_Do you know how much effort it took to get you into Russia? How persuasive I had to be? What guarantees I had to give?"_ She sighed wearily_. "Giving them the slip was not helpful. Nor was redirecting this little … bundle of joy my way." _

"I don't trust anyone else to deal with it."

"_You could have at least discussed it!" _

"No time, Gwen. Look, I know you're mad at me so if you want to kill me when I get back, I don't mind. But right now we need to get all our ducks in a row."

"_You heard him, Lois, I have permission to kill him. Break out the AK47." _

"Make it an Uzi, the AK tickles."

Gwen found her irritation draining away in the face of Jack's charm. And he was right yet again, they had more important matters to discuss than trading recriminations about his unilateral decision. Though using him for target practice had a certain appeal … They got down to business.

"The portal is going to open at 3pm tomorrow your time," said Jack, referring to his notes. "We'll need a pyloxit field set up and ready to be activated as soon as we see what's coming through. I've told Al and he can help you set it up but you'll probably need UNIT in on this too. The field will scramble the signals from the cones and keep the portal from expanding."

"_Why not just prevent it opening in the first place?" _

"Because we need to know who's doing this and why. Don't want them trying again." He shrugged. "Better to send a message now that we're not a soft target." That's what should have happened back in 1965 when the 456 first came calling.

"_What kind of effect is this going to have? I mean, a portal opening in the Millennium Stadium is pretty obvious. Couldn't you have chosen somewhere less public?" _

"Needs to be containable and the stadium is just the right size. That was why I got it designed that way."

Gwen stared at him, surely he wasn't saying he had had a hand in the design of such an icon of the regenerated city. _"I don't believe you."_

"The retractable roof was my idea. Always wanted one on the Hub but couldn't manage it." He grinned and suddenly she believed him. "Anyway, you can pack the seats with UNIT guys and the pyloxit field will cover the whole structure."

"_What about the city? Should we evacuate?" _

"No point. Either whatever comes through will be contained or it won't. If it isn't, leaving the city won't help." Jack leant forward. "Besides, negotiating an evacuation with your politicians and controlling panicking people is not the best use of your time."

"_I suppose."_ Gwen was still resolved to get her own family out of the immediate danger zone. _"We've been working on that religious sect. The FSB found out it was based in Eastern Europe – which you'd know if you'd stayed in touch with them! - and the Network have narrowed it down to a backwater in Romania." _

"Excellent. So Lois was right, this is linked to the sightings." He smiled at her. "Well done. So you're rounding them up."

Gwen rolled her eyes. _"There's no one to round up! It's tiny, Jack, a one-man band. FSB found emails between Boris Modin in Irkutsk and an Ilie Roman in a village with an unpronounceable name." _She was reading from Lois's notes. _"The Romanians got there an hour ago and found this Roman had left on Friday for God knows where and –"_

"Lourdes. He'll have gone to Lourdes to meet what's coming through the portal." This latest information confirmed what the event was going to be, in his own mind anyway. If the Torchwood archives had still been accessible he'd have been a hundred percent sure.

"_Of course. Should have spotted that." _

"_You only saw the information five minutes ago, Gwen,"_ put in Lois loyally. The information had come in while Gwen had accompanied Rhys and Daniel home.

"_Even so …"_ Gwen ran a hand through her hair, feeling suddenly very tired. She had barely slept the night before and it was catching up with her. "_We'll contact the authorities, track him down." _

"Don't tip him off too soon. He uses email, hack into it. Might give us more on what's coming." Jack decided not to share his own suppositions, not until he was positive.

"_There is something else,"_ said Lois. _"Ilie Roman had a few followers in the village. They're being questioned but one of them, Dimitri Petrescu, was murdered at the nearest railway station on the same day Roman took off. He could be dangerous."_

"Another reason for caution. Tell the French to keep an eye on him but not to detain him."

"_Easy for you to say,"_ complained Gwen. "_You ever tried to tell the French anything?"_

"I introduced them to the gastronomic delights of frogs and snails, they really weren't keen at first."

"_You what? Jack!" _

He grinned at her, pleased to have diverted her. "I know you, Gwen, you'll get them to tow the line. Search through this guy's email history, might give us leads on others acting with him. How did one man in Romania arrange the placing of the cones?"

"_We'll get on it, among all the other things we have to do. Alonso tell you about the drugs?" _

"Yeah, and I think you're right to involve UNIT. But keep an eye on it, please. It was the reason I came back after all."

"_When can we expect you back here?" _It was now 15.20 and Burke-Tarkleton was due to arrive in ten minutes.

"I'm booked out on the 21.20 to London, arrives 22.20 your time." He gave them the flight number. "I'll be with you early tomorrow."

"_Good."_ Gwen didn't mind admitting she would be happier as soon as Jack was back in Cardiff. _"We'll organise a car."_

"Thanks. We'll get together tomorrow morning then. Anything else?"

Gwen thought of the hundred and one things on her desk all of which were urgent and wished she had recalled Selwyn from Australia to help her. With her team all over the world she was holding the fort alone, except for Lois who had been run off her feet too. Perhaps she should bring in another administrator as well as a technician. That's if the world survived the next twenty four hours.

"_Not to bother you with. I'll bring you up to date when I see you." _

"Okay. Send me anything new on this Romanian guy." He signed off.

He spent another hour in the café tracking down all the information he could about a legends of goddess mothers. There was a lot.

-ooOoo-

_Around the world_

The Naraids were on the move, sliding sinuously through the water. Used as hunting animals on their native world, they had been bred for their cunning over hundreds of years and not a ripple appeared on the surface of the water to give them away. The attacks were co-ordinated by the clan leader who directed the four packs into position. A member of pack three had been killed, they were ripe for revenge.


	27. Chapter 22

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty Two

_Cardiff_

UNIT had sent a large group of officers to discuss the possible use of their ship, _Ark Royal_. At the table, Brigadier Burke-Tarkleton was flanked by two colonels and three lieutenants. These six uniformed and be-ribboned officers faced Lois Habiba and Alonso Frame. Pleading pressing other concerns, Gwen had welcomed the UNIT officers and then left them to it. Lois had known this was the plan but even so, as the door closed behind Gwen, she felt unequal to the responsibility she had been given.

Rupert Burke-Tarkleton was the first to break the silence. "Well, Ms Habiba, perhaps you'd better start."

She swallowed audibly, took a sip of water, and screwed up her courage. These officers worked for the same organisation that had actively assisted in the plan to hand over children to the 456. She had stood up to them and the politicians then, had been in the same room as the 456, she could hold her own now.

"Yes, sir. Alonso can fill you in on the technical details but essentially we have discovered a group of aliens who are removing crestinoni, a small but vital part of Earth's atmosphere, to make drugs. They have been doing this for at least a year."

"Excuse me, young lady, that's impossible. No aliens would be able to approach Earth let alone remove matter from the atmosphere without us being aware of it." Colonel Freeman, a grey-haired veteran, was smug and patronising.

"Then how do you explain this? Alonso, show him your graph."

The plasma screen sprang to life. "I've only gone back eighteen of your months but you can see that on two occasions the amount of crestinoni reduced significantly, by four ppm to be exact." Another graph appeared, Alonso had amused himself producing them over the past couple of days. "In the months before each depletion, the crestinoni was moved to Sector 14, quadrant 3.79 beta over this place." A map appeared. "Sweden, that's in the –"

"They know where Sweden is, Alonso," interrupted Lois. She had seen the UNIT men's attention pique when Alonso had said 'your months' and they were now eying him with too much interest for her peace of mind. "By analysing alien engine signatures, we have identified the miners – who are using or selling the crestinoni to make drugs - as Irakii." She carefully spelt this out.

Colonel Freeman was dismissive, "This is hardly sufficient evidence to warrant the deployment of the most advanced ship on Earth; a few fancy graphs don't prove anything. I fear these young people are wasting our time, sir."

"May I ask a question, sir?" asked one of the lieutenants. When Burke-Tarkleton nodded, the lieutenant went on, "You keep mentioning crestinoni. I have reviewed all the data available and no scientist, of repute or otherwise, has ever referred to it in any published paper. Why should we believe it exists and is as important as you say?"

"Good point, Seifert, good point," said Freeman. "Answer that, young man."

Irritated at the man's tone, Alonso retorted, "Every class M planet's atmosphere has crestinoni, everyone knows that except you backward people."

"Alonso." Lois put a restraining hand on his arm but he didn't stop.

"Just because you haven't identified it yet doesn't mean it's not there. You haven't found yenweo or presfiga either! Hell, you still use fossil fuels and have only travelled to your moon! When you find renewable energy and get as far as my home maybe you'll understand! No, that should be if you do that without annihilating yourselves first!" He crossed his arms and glared across the table, looking like a little boy who had not got his way.

The military men were silent, staring back at him with calculated interest. Lois closed her eyes momentarily and then rallied. Gwen had trusted her with this meeting, she had to recover the situation whilst protecting Alonso.

"Our records confirm all that Alonso has told you." A lie but they weren't to know that. "Crestinoni is a vital part of the ozone layer. Its removal allows increasing levels of UV radiation to penetrate the atmosphere and thus threatens the future of the planet. The effects of the mining that has already taken place is partly responsible for recent global warming." She dared not look at Alonso as she said this; it was probably not true but it might frighten these UNIT men. "Do you wish to stop its removal or be remembered as the men who condemned human life to extinction?"

Colonel Freeman, a supercilious smirk on his lips, said, "Very dramatic, young lady, I –"

"I am not your young lady!" she snapped, leaning forward threateningly. "You may call me Lois or Ms Habiba!" She was not going to be patronised by this idiot any longer. "Brigadier, we are happy to share all the information we have found with your technical people," she indicated Lieutenant Seifert, "but constantly belittling us is just wasting valuable time." She stood up. "This meeting is over." Beside her Alonso grinned and stood too; he had not seen this side of Lois before and he liked it.

Rupert Burke-Tarkleton raised his hands in surrender. "Please sit down, Ms Habiba. You too, Mr Frame." He waited until they had resumed their seats. "I apologise, we should not have doubted you. I'll leave Lieutenant Seifert to discuss the technical issues in more detail outside this meeting, for now we accept what you say and understand the implications. You mentioned Irakiis as the perpetrators of this mining operation. I've never heard of them, can you tell us more?"

From that point on the meeting became less confrontational and a real exchange of information followed. When, two hours later, Gwen put her head round the door to check on progress, she found Alonso and Seifert huddled over laptops, paper notes and calculations at one end of the table and Lois and the Brigadier working out the procedures for diverting the _Ark Royal_ as and when required with the two colonels and spare lieutenants making notes or talking amongst themselves.

"How's it going?" Gwen asked, pulling out a spare chair to sit by Lois.

"Very well, Gwen, very well," said Burke-Tarkleton. "In fact, I think we've finished here. Do you agree, Lois?"

"Yes, sir." She turned to Gwen. "The Brigadier has agreed in principle to divert the _Ark Royal_ when the miners return subject to further confirmation on the technical side." She gestured to Alonso and Lieutenant Siefert.

Gwen was delighted. "Excellent. Thank you, Brigadier. I guess we just have to wait for the Irakiis to return. If you are done, do you think I could have a private word?" She wanted to alert him to the coming events in Cardiff.

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

The alarm was raised at three in the morning. The ASIO agent on guard at the makeshift camp was walking up and down to keep himself awake when he saw one of the patrol boats standing offshore jerk sideways as if hit by something heavy underwater. As he watched, trying to understand what was going on, it happened again and the stern settled heavily in the water. Realising something was very wrong, he yelled loudly and banged on the doors of the nearest RVs while using his radio to alert the crews of both boats.

Selwyn Agnew woke at once and fell out of bed. Stopping only to pull on his boots (he had slept fully dressed) he hurried outside where the six ASIO agents were frantically trying to make sense of what was happening on the water. Radios cackled and every man and woman was talking. Selwyn followed the crowd to the water's edge and watched the boat, its bows now clear of the water by several metres, sink by the stern. It was like watching _Titanic_ but on a lesser scale. Figures appeared on the stricken boat; the crew trying desperately to save her. Flames broke through and forced the crew to climb on the almost upright bows. Suddenly the boat sank and the crew – five men – were floundering in the water.

"_We're going in to pick up survivors,"_ came over the radio from the second patrol boat. It was moving in, its powerful searchlights playing over the ocean.

This news galvanised Selwyn. "Everyone back!" he yelled to the agents around him. "Get back from the water!" He waved his arms to get them to move, even pushed one young female agent in the right direction. "Mark, tell that boat to stay clear."

"What! That's our mates out there, we're not leaving them to drown." Selwyn was grabbed from behind by a couple of burly agents and held securely.

"The creatures!" yelled Selwyn. "The creatures will attack anyone in the water!"

"You keep saying that, Pom, but we've not seen 'em," said one of his captors.

"They're there I tell you! We're all in danger if we stay here. They probably capsized the boat!"

"Christ, you do lay it on thick. Snakes sinking boats, what will you think of next!"

"Shit!" said Mark Tang. He had been watching the rescue attempt and in the beam of a searchlight had just seen a huge black shape emerge from the water and drag a swimming man down.

"I told you!" yelled Selwyn. "We can't save them." He had been pulled to the side of the group on shore and so had a grandstand view of a creature - perhaps the same one, perhaps another – rear out of the shallow water and latch onto the neck of a female agent. Her colleagues were slow to react and before they could draw their weapons she was dragged unresisting into the water. Shrugging out of his captors' hold, Selwyn went to Mark's side. "Come on, Mark." Pulling on the agent's arm, he dragged him backwards just as another creature appeared and snapped at the place he had been standing.

This second assault was enough to convince the five remaining agents to retreat and they stumbled back a metre or so. Selwyn urged them even further back and saved at least one more life as a result; the creature snapped at empty air, flopped heavily onto the ground and slid back into the water as angry and desperate shots rang out. Further out at sea, one of the crewmen in the water had been pulled onto the second boat but there was no sign of the other three. Acting on Selwyn's advice, Mark told the captain to return to base and seek medical help.

-ooOoo-

_Yantis, Texas_

Hiram Wendover and his FBI team had settled into a routine at Lake Fork. It was three days since Jack and Selwyn had left and other than reprogramming the cone, Hiram's job had been to guard the area. The team was ten strong, including Hiram; his new partner, Allan Todd; Janine Rubayo and Carl Kember of the local field office; four from regional headquarters; and two technicians. Birdwell Island had been put out of bounds and two agents constantly patrolled in small armed boats, as much to keep sightseers away as anything else. An agent and a technician monitored from shore, using state-of-the-art equipment.

Hiram was officially off duty but some sense of foreboding had sent him down to the monitoring station – a van parked across from the island – instead of heading into town for lunch. The sun was high overhead in another cloudless blue sky. Leaving the car and its air-conditioned comfort, he stopped at the water's edge using his binoculars to scan Birdwell Island. He could see both boats as they completed yet another circuit. They slowed as they neared one another and Hiram heard Allan shout a rude comment about Carl's ridiculous sunhat.

And then all hell broke lose.

Carl's boat, a forty-footer, jerked and swung through ninety degrees. He was wrestling the steering wheel when the engine died and part of the stern disappeared. The boat began to sink. Recovering from the surprise, Allan steered for the sinking vessel but did not get there before Carl was forced to jump into the churning water. He sank under the surface and did not come up again. Allan stopped his boat, leaving the engine to idle, and leaned over the side searching for a sight of his colleague.

"Allan, no!" yelled Hiram at the top of his voice. "Get back!"

Behind him, the van doors opened and an agent stepped out. "We just picked up some readings that are off the scale. Joe's never seen them before," he reported before looking beyond Hiram to the scene on the lake. "Fuck."

"Allan, come … back … here!" shouted Hiram.

His partner obviously heard him. His head came round and he looked straight at Hiram. At that moment, a dark alien shape reared out of the water and latched onto his neck, pulling him out of the boat and under the water. Hiram lost his second partner in under a week.

-ooOoo-

_Lake Baikal, Russia_

Guard duty is never pleasant, lots of standing or (if you're lucky) sitting around waiting for something to happen which rarely does. Guard duty in the freezing cold of early winter in Siberia where the only shelter is an ice-filled cave which floods regularly has to be the most unpleasant of the lot. Vasili Karenchenko was aware of this and had arranged his men into groups of four, alternating time in the cave with time in an insulated wooden hut brought in across the semi-frozen lake. He had positioned the hut fifty metres back, under the trees, and left the guard detail while he checked on Pavel Gavrilov, unconscious in an Irkutsk hospital after being attacked by the snake-creature. Vasili was hiding, avoiding his superiors in Moscow who were blaming him for allowing Jack Harkness to travel alone back to Moscow and then go missing. Now he had turned up, large as life and unrepentant, at the airport Vasili had decided to resurface.

Arriving back at the lake in the dark – it was 21.00 - he stumbled down the path to the rocky shore grateful for the markers his men had set up earlier in the day. Emerging from the trees, he halted and checked his position then cursed. His fools of guards, an inferior crew, had decided it was too far to walk to the hut and dragged it to rest just two metres from the crevasse that gave access to the cave. Water lapped at the bottom of the hut and covered the path. Striding forward, Vasili threw open the door of the hut to find two of the guards inside taking nips from a vodka bottle.

"Get out! Get out, you imbeciles!" he yelled standing in the doorway. It was the last thing he ever said.

Two snake-creatures appeared from under the ice and grabbed him by the neck, one on either side, and paralysed him instantly. One dragged him backwards under the water while the other creature lunged forward into the hut. The petrified men, reflexes dulled by alcohol, were easy prey and in less than three minutes they followed Vasili into Lake Baikal. With the guards from the cave also taken, silence fell over that part of the shore until, three hours later, Sergei Rostov was sent to find out why no one was answering the radio and found the deserted scene.

-ooOoo-

_Falkland Islands_

Kevin had spent the day catching up on his sleep, monitoring the cone and sitting looking out over the Bay of Harbours. It was a rugged but beautiful spot and he enjoyed watching the flocks of white and black kelp geese and occasional seals. Corporal Riley had not been so taken by the area, griping about being stuck out there, however Sergeant Mills was happy to answer Kevin's many questions about the immediate locality and the Islands in general. Just before 15.00 a Land Rover approached up the track interrupting their bird watching. Mick Mills stood and did up his jacket when he recognised Lieutenant Walker alone in the vehicle. He idly wondered why he hadn't brought a driver.

"On your feet, Riley," he ordered. "Sir." He stood to attention as Walker parked and got out of the Land Rover.

"There's some rations in the back." Walker walked past the sergeant and scanned the area, looking longest at the hut containing the cone. "Heggerty, any change?"

"No, sir." Kevin was also standing.

"Let's take a look." The two men walked down to the hut, Mills and Riley following a few paces behind, and Walker peered inside. It looked just as it had when he'd been here last. "Any better idea what this is going to do?" he asked, strolling away along the shore.

Kevin hesitated. He had spoken to Gwen earlier in the day and she had shared her doubts about the MOD's report on the placement of the cone, a report prepared by Lieutenant Walker. Kevin had no reason to distrust him but loyalty to Gwen made him say, "No, sir."

"I see." Walker stood with hands behind his back staring out to sea.

"We should move back, sir. This place is dangerous." They were close to the water's edge and Kevin edged back a little.

The snake-creature came for him suddenly, rearing out of the water and lunging at his neck. Already on his guard, he dodged to one side and pushed Mills out of danger as well. Corporal Riley, further back, opened up with his SA80 and sprayed the creature which retreated. A further two creatures emerged, launching themselves out of the water and heading directly for Kevin and the two soldiers. More gunfire stopped one creature but the other was still coming when the bullets ran out.

"Run!" yelled Mills, frantically reloading.

Kevin ran but not to the camp. He ran straight for Lieutenant Walker and socked him on the jaw, grabbed the man's sidearm while he was down and trained it on him. When the officer made to rise, Kevin shot him in the knee.


	28. Chapter 23

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty Three

_Falkland Islands_

"Drop it," ordered Sergeant Mills, SA80 trained on Kevin. "Don't be a fool, I don't want to kill you."

"What are you waiting for, Sergeant!" yelled Lieutenant Timothy Walker. He was on the ground, writhing from the pain of his shattered kneecap and trying to stem the blood. "You saw what he did!"

"They've gone, Sarge," reported Corporal Riley. He was watching the dead snake-creature and scanning the water for the return of the other two.

"Good." Mick Mills did not take his eyes from Kevin who was standing over Walker with the pistol in his hand. "Come on, Kevin, drop the gun."

"He's in league with them," replied Kevin, his voice level. "He was closest to the water but the creatures ignored him. Why?" The realisation had come to him in a flash and, already suspicious of the man, he had acted without conscious thought. However now he was stuck in a situation he didn't know how to resolve without more bloodshed.

"That's rubbish!" ground out Walker through clenched teeth.

"Not so sure about that," said Riley in his thick Liverpudlian brogue. "I saw one of them go right round you."

"Idiot, it's not true." Walker groaned and fought against the blackness closing in on him.

Mills kept his gun trained on Kevin. "We can talk about that when Kevin puts the gun down."

"He's working with them," repeated Kevin, gaze not wavering from the man at his feet. "He deliberately led us down here, to the beach, so the creatures could reach us. There was no need otherwise."

"He's got a point," put in Riley. His SA80 was now trained on Walker. The man was an officer and Riley should follow his orders without question, that was what he was trained to do, but Riley had learnt to tell the good officers from the bad and Walker smelt bad.

"No one asked for your opinion, Corporal!" snapped Mills.

Kevin looked over his shoulder at Mills. "Give me a chance to prove it before you call the MPs and I'll give you the gun." He had no idea if he could prove it but it would end this standoff and buy him some time.

"Sergeant!" hissed Walker. "I order you to shoot."

It was Walker's bad luck that Mick Mills was one of the new breed of NCO, trained to obey orders but also to think for himself. He had gone over what had happened and like Riley had a clear image of two of the creatures by-passing Walker. Why? If they were mindless animals they would have attacked all of them. However, if he listened to Kevin he was putting his career on the line, likely to be dishonourably discharged or even imprisoned if the Torchwood operative was wrong.

"You've got thirty minutes," he said, shouldering his SA80. "Talk fast."

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

The kitchen was steamed up as pots on the hob boiled and the oven door opened and closed. It was early evening and Gwen was finally home after a very long day. As Rhys moved around checking potatoes, broccoli and swede, Gwen sat on the sofa and cuddled her son. Daniel had been fed and changed and was ready for bed but she could not bear to let go of him. Before she had given birth she had imagined a child in the abstract and the reality when it had come had knocked her for six. He was first in her affections and there was nothing she would not do for him. Which is why, rocking the baby to sleep, she was working round to persuading Rhys to take Daniel out of Cardiff before the big 'event' took place tomorrow.

"Good old Lois," said Rhys, poking at the swede. "She and Alonso are working pretty well together."

"Yes. Gave me all afternoon to alert the French. They're going to trace this Romanian, Ilie Roman, and keep an eye on him."

"What about his emails? You going to be able to hack into those?" Rhys sipped from his bottle of beer.

"Alonso is having a look. He's a godsend, don't know what I'd do without him." She watched Daniel's face; asleep he looked very like Rhys. "He's gone home with Lois. Seems he mouthed off at the UNIT guys and they now know he's a alien." She rolled her eyes. "Lois reckons UNIT will try and kidnap him."

Rhys stared at her. "They wouldn't, would they?"

"They might, they're always wanting to study anything new." She stood up. "I'll put this one down. Hope dinner's not going to be long, I'm starving." She kissed Rhys on the lips and went off upstairs.

Rhys checked on the lamb roasting in its juices and mulled over what she had said. Alonso was human, as near as made no difference, and Rhys hated the idea anyone would want to study or examine him like a laboratory specimen. His thoughts were interrupted by Gwen's mobile. He found it under a pile of ironing waiting to be done.

"_Rhys, it's Selwyn. Can I talk to Gwen?"_

"Hello. What's it like down under? Lots of beautiful girls round the barbie?"

"_I haven't had time to find out. Look, Rhys, I really need to talk to Gwen." _

"Okay. She's upstairs with Danny, I'll get her for you." He walked into the hall as he spoke. "Gwen, phone!" he called. "What's happened?" he asked Selwyn.

"_There's been an attack by those snake-creatures. Half a dozen people dead."_ It was clear Selwyn was rattled. _"Hiram called me, same thing happened in Texas." _

"More killed?"

"_Two of his people." _

"I'm sorry. Here's Gwen, I'll hand you over." He pressed the mute button. "Selwyn. There was an attack in Australia and Texas, people are dead." He passed her the phone and went to hold back dinner.

Gwen and Rhys finally settled down to eat an hour later. Both were subdued at the news of the co-ordinated attacks; they had occurred simultaneously in Australia, Texas and the Falkland Islands. Kevin had been distinctly curt when she spoke to him, giving only the barest details and practically cutting her off; most unlike him. Gwen had not been able to raise Vasili in Russia but had alerted his deputy who was sending someone out to the site to check.

"Rhys, will you do something for me? Something I really need you to do." She placed her knife and fork neatly on the plate and looked at him sitting opposite. Now was the time, she couldn't put it off any longer.

"'Cos, love. Do anything for you, I would." He beamed at her, his smile fading when he saw how serious she was. "What is it?"

"Don't be in Cardiff tomorrow. Take Daniel and –"

"No! I'm not leaving you in danger." He glared at her. "How can you even ask!"

A single tear trickled down her cheek. "I need to know you and Daniel are safe. If you're here then I won't be able to do my job and … I have so much to do. I can't cope if I'm worrying about you two." More tears, which she angrily wiped away. "People are dying, Rhys." She wept.

"Don't get upset, love." He was round the table and holding her. "Please, Gwen." She did not cry often and hearing her sobs made his heart ache and his resolve to stand up to her weaken. But not entirely.

"I can't lose you or Daniel. You could go to Mam's, she'd look after you both. And –"

"When I married you, I promised to stick by you for better or worse and that's what I mean to do. Even if it means dealing with aliens."

"We have to protect Daniel." She pulled away.

"You're right. When we've eaten this, you can call your mam and I'll take him down there first thing but I'm coming straight back so don't try and stop me. You've got half your team all round the world and you need me here."

"Thank you." She cuddled against him, fresh tears running down her face. They broke apart a few minutes later when the doorbell rang.

-ooOoo-

_Falkland Islands_

The three men sitting in a circle in front of the tent were silent, reading from the screen as Kevin scrolled through the emails one more time. Each message made the position clearer and piled up more evidence against the man who had written and received them.

Mick Mills cleared his throat. "I knew Rick Wincott. He was wild but a good bloke to have at your side. Why did he go along with it?"

"Blackmail." Kevin opened a Word file. "Private Wincott was stealing from the NAAFI and selling on the black market. Walker promised not to press charges if Wincott placed the cone for him."

"Bastard." Mills flicked a glance at Lieutenant Timothy Walker, lying on a groundsheet with a tourniquet above his injured knee and pumped full of painkillers and a sedative. "He killed Rick. The bastard fed him to those things." He gestured angrily to the body of the snake-creature lying on the shore.

"Suppose that's why he was so interested in what you were doing, Kevin," said Brendan Riley. "Didn't want you to get too close."

"He tried to pump me for information about what we … Torchwood were planning. I'm glad I didn't tell him everything now." Kevin carefully saved the emails he had discovered after hacking into Walker's private account. After shutting the laptop, he picked up the small emitter they had found in Walker's pocket. "This made sure those creatures stayed away from him."

"He was going to kill us the same way he killed Rick." Sergeant Mills was angry at the betrayal; officers were supposed to look after their men, not kill them.

"Yes."

Silence fell again as the three considered how close they had come to ending up paralysed and then drowned. Rising, Mills went into the tent and pulled a flask from his pack. Back with the others, he took a swig of the whisky and passed the flask round.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Riley, handing back the flask. "They going to believe us?"

"They have to believe the evidence. Sergeant," asked Kevin formally, turning to Mills, "permission to make a suggestion?"

"Go on." Mills took another swig of the whisky.

"We tell my boss what we've found and send her the evidence. She'll know what to do." Kevin was painfully aware that he didn't. "I know there'll be a row but I'll make sure you two don't take any of the flak. I shot the lieutenant and hacked into his emails. We can say I threatened you too if you like."

"No need for that on my account," said Riley. "I'll take my chances."

"Thanks. Sergeant?" prompted Kevin.

Mills sighed. "Rick was a mate and there's more to life than the Army. I'd better radio in."

"Let me talk to Gwen first so she can be ready for them."

-ooOoo-

_Lourdes, France_

Michelle Thierry of the DCRI arranged her team around the _pension_. One agent was in an apartment opposite with a camera snapping everyone who entered or left; two more were in cars parked at both ends of the street to follow if Roman left in a taxi; one was posing as a workman and watching the back entrance. In one of the cars out front, Michelle looked again at the sole photograph they had of the man they had been told to watch. Like all passport photographs it was unflattering, or at least she supposed so, and it would be a miracle if they could spot him if he came out into the dark and wet night.

"Chief." Her colleague, Pierre Gaspard, nodded towards the street.

"Damn!"

Gendarme Charles Mauroux walked down the street, used to the vagaries of the weather and not noticing the fine rain. He had been late coming on duty – it was now 21.15 - and had missed the briefing which had included details of the DCRI stake-out. During the day the excitable man he had seen that morning at the station was often in Mauroux's thoughts and he decided to pay the _pension_ a visit. Blissfully unaware that his every move was being watched, he mounted the steps and entered the building.

"I thought the uniforms were told to stay away," said Pierre.

"They were supposed to be. Do you know him?"

"No."

A request to the rest of her team discovered the gendarme's name. Thierry radioed headquarters and shouted and screamed at the duty officer until he got the message and agreed to pull his man back. Michelle settled down to wait. Inside the _pension_, Gendarme Mauroux had had a very interesting conversation with the owner who told him all about Ilie's screaming fit that afternoon. Grateful for the excuse to see the man again, the two of them went up to Ilie's room to warn him against further outbursts.

Ilie Roman was frustrated. He had ordered the Naraid attacks on the people who had found the cones but had no feedback from his people in the area about whether they had been successful or not. He did not regret giving the order; at the very least the attacks had scared his enemies. He had tried to fill the time by sleeping but The Lady's coming was too close for him to relax. This time tomorrow he would be at her right hand, the most powerful man in the world and no one would stand in his way ever again. He was coming into his own and meant to enjoy it. He giggled as he thought of the priests who had tried to remove him, the villagers who had mocked him and the many slights, real and imagined, he had received throughout his life. They would all be shown that Ilie Roman had a long memory. He thought of Dimitri and smiled; that was one who had got his just deserts. Reaching into his pocket, Ilie pulled out the knife which still had traces of Dimitri's blood on the blade.

The knock on the door did not alarm him. He greeted his two visitors with a smile unaware he still held the knife in his hand. Madame Leveque screamed, the gendarme stepped forward and, still imagining glories to come, Ilie stabbed him through the heart. He was dead before he slid off the blade. Madame Leveque, still screaming, ran for the stairs rousing other guests who came out into the corridor in time to see Ilie stab her from behind. She fell down the stairs noisily. Gerard Pelletier, a former rugby forward, grabbed Ilie and forced him to drop the knife before wrestling him to the floor. Other guests helped restrain him and one telephoned for the police.

Outside Michelle Thierry and her team, waiting anxiously for the gendarme to emerge, were astounded when three marked police cars turned up, sirens blaring.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

If Gwen had thought she had a lot on her plate before, she had more added to it when the new arrivals, Lois and Alonso, settled on the sofa in the kitchen/diner and brought her up to date. As Rhys cleared up and made coffee, Gwen sat on a hard kitchen chair and listened intently.

Alonso had used a program of Kevin's and some of his own technical wizardry to hack into Ilie Roman's email account and found a wealth of information that explained much. They had evidence that Ilie had ordered the cones to be placed and by whom as well his most recent instruction for the co-ordinated attacks by the snake-creatures. From the email addresses of Ilie's contacts around the world, Lois had used Torchwood's own records and those in other countries to identify them all; a motley collection of criminal gang bosses, businessmen and politicians. Some of them operated under the guise of priests of the cult of Our Lady and referred to Ilie Roman as the Patriarch but others were merely paid to undertake the dirty work.

"There's still not much about the cult," pointed out Lois, "we'll need Roman's laptop for that. Any news from the French?"

"Not yet. This is good, Alonso, really good stuff." Gwen was shuffling paper copies of the emails, scanning them for any tidbit they might have missed. "You were right about the MOD, Lois."

"Yes. We ought to warn Kevin about that man, he might try something." Lois was quietly pleased she had seen through the thin report of an investigation into the placing of the cones. According to Lieutenant Walker there had been no suspicious deaths that could have been connected but her own brief search through military records had come up with two within the right timeframe, including Private Richard Wincott who the emails showed to have been the perpetrator.

At this moment, Gwen's mobile rang and Kevin told her all that had happened on the promontory above the Bay of Harbours. Kevin had been ahead of them, identifying Walker and thwarting his plans but ending up in a complete pickle. Concentrating on the important issues, she told him to secure Walker and the snake-creature before putting calls through to the network in Argentina and Chief of the Defence Staff. Citing a clause in the Network's UN mandate she declared the area around the cone to be under Network control and ordered the military to back off unless asked to assist. The CDS didn't like it, calling it another invasion, but she overrode him.

The news from France that Ilie Roman was in custody for murdering two people surprised but did not shock Gwen, too much had already happened. She requested he be brought under guard to Cardiff with all his possessions and most especially his laptop. The authorities grumbled but finally agreed provided they could have him back to face charges for murder. Head still full of all that was going on, she closed her mobile.

"Surely nothing else can happen!" she said with a tired smile.

At that moment Alonso's laptop started to beep.


	29. Chapter 24

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty Four

_Cardiff_

"What's that?" asked Rhys. He was dreading another emergency; they had more than enough to deal with as it was. "'Lonso?" The beeping was coming from his (closed) laptop.

"They're on their way," he said gleefully, eyed bright and grinning widely.

"Who is?" demanded Gwen. She badly needed some sleep if she was to face whatever arrived through the portal set to open in the Millennium Stadium in a little over eighteen hours.

Alonso had the laptop open and was quickly flicking through screens. The images were going past too fast for any of the others sitting round in the Williams kitchen/diner to make them out. After a few tense moments he looked up, excited by whatever he had found. "They've just passed the outermost marker. Don't seem to be going very fast so there's time to intercept them."

"Who?" said Gwen again. She had a feeling she knew but didn't want to say or, if she was honest, hear him say it. If no one said anything perhaps it wouldn't be true. Then she heard him say the dreaded words.

"The Irakiis."

Gwen closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. They had portals opening; a murdering Romanian priest on his way to Cardiff; sudden attacks by snake-creatures; the Ministry of Defence up in arms; the Catholic Church disputing the evidence about the false Virgin Mary sightings; and UNIT on the prowl keen to get their hands on Alonso for experimentation. To top all that, it now appeared the intergalactic miners-cum-drug smugglers were heading for Earth.

"Are you sure, Alonso?" asked Lois. She was sitting beside Alonso on the sofa and looked at the screen. It didn't make any sense to her, a series of numbers and letters scrolling down, but she trusted that he understood it.

"Uh-huh. They're clearing Jupiter right now. Should be at Earth in," he paused making some calculations, "thirteen point four of your hours."

"That's just before one o'clock here, midday Swedish time," added Lois. Since the Torchwood team had scattered across the globe, she had become very familiar with the various time zones. "The Brigadier said he would need a minimum of four hours notice to get the _Ark Royal_ into position."

"Then we've got time to make sure it really is the Irakiis." Gwen was grateful for the breathing space, too many things were demanding her attention.

"Before you lot do anything," said Rhys firmly, "you need some sleep, especially you Gwen. You barely got any last night. No," he continued when she and the others made to protest, "I'm not having you putting yourselves or the rest of us in danger by being tired."

"Rhys, love, there's so much to be done. We don't have time for sleep." Gwen appreciated his concern and would have been the first to admit she needed rest but with so much going on it was a luxury they could not afford.

"It's not negotiable, Gwen. If you don't go to bed right now I won't take Danny to your mam's." He crossed his arms and stared at her, meaning every word.

"Rhys, you agreed." She was on her feet.

"That was when I thought you were being sensible. I'm not saying you have to sleep all night. If you go up now, you could have four or five hours before Jack gets here. You'll need him before you can start making plans."

"He'll want to know about the miners. I'll text him." Alonso had his mobile in hand.

"No! No, Alonso, not yet."

Gwen wasn't sure how to explain that Jack would be more interested in the latest on the portal opening and the cult of The Lady. Poor kid, Alonso probably thought Jack would go with him to stop the Irakiis when he had to be Cardiff. Then she thought again. Was she right in assuming Jack would want to help her? He had returned to Earth in order to stop the trade in crestinoni, perhaps he would see that as his priority. Surely he wouldn't, would he? In her tired state, her head started to spin and she sat down heavily.

"Gwen, love, you all right?" Rhys was by her side as she blinked rapidly.

"I'm okay." She sighed again, raising a hand to stroke the side of his face and smiled. "But you're right, I do need some sleep. Lois, is there anything we have to do right now?"

Consulting her notes, Lois replied, "No, we have a few hours in hand."

"That's good then," said Rhys, standing and pulling Gwen to her feet at the same time. "Get upstairs now, I'll wake you when Jack gets here." Rhys pushed her towards the door. "Lois, there's a spare bed if you want it. 'Lonso, you can bunk down on the sofa."

Rhys in this mood was unstoppable and he had Gwen and Lois in bed within ten minutes. Despite them thinking they would not sleep, both dropped off within just a few minutes. Fetching pillows and a blanket, he made up the sofa for Alonso but the young man declared himself well rested – a surprise considering he started the morning hungover. Alonso sent his text to Jack and he and Rhys sat and talked. Rhys finally got to ask all his questions about Alonso's home and space travel, matters that had intrigued him for so long.

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

In the cool of early morning the five surviving ASIO agents were both angry and despondent. Angry because six of their colleagues were dead - five from the boat that had been sunk and one on land - and despondent because they could do nothing about it. The snake-creatures had disappeared back into the water and no one was stupid enough to try and follow. The agents stuck together, sitting and standing around the campsite mostly in silence.

Selwyn Agnew watched them as he put his mobile phone back in his pocket and walked over to Mark Tang who was standing on the edge of the group, a mug of coffee in hand staring out across the nature reserve. Everyone was staying well back from the water's edge, finally understanding why Selwyn had been warning them about it so often. Mark looked round as Selwyn reached him.

"Thanks, mate."

"What for?"

"Saving my life. Those … things would have got me otherwise." Mark nodded towards the water.

"My pleasure." The two men stood in silence for several minutes. "I've heard from Hiram in Texas. His people got some readings during the attack and have identified a new type of energy."

"Something recognisable?" Mark was interested. He wanted nothing more than to track down the creatures that had killed his friends and colleagues.

"Apparently. He's getting the data together and is sending it now."

Mark grinned and clapped Selwyn on the shoulder. "Bonzer! Bluey, get your brain in gear, we're going snake hunting."

Selwyn watched as the mood of the group changed to devilish anticipation at the thought of getting their own back on the snake-creatures.

-ooOoo-

_Falkland Islands_

On that quiet Sunday evening most of the civilian population of the Islands were in ignorance of the fleet of Argentinian aircraft landing at RAF Mount Pleasant. The emerging soldiers wore UNIT uniforms and with the barest of civilities to the British troops, headed off to the Bay of Harbours. Commodore Partridge, mindful of his orders from the CDS, did his best to assist the new force. He was alarmed at his aide's extracurricular activities and wanted to distance himself from them completely.

The promontory above the Bay was the busiest place in the Islands. A Navy cruiser and a couple of smaller vessels were criss-crossing the waters in a grid pattern searching for the snake-creatures using the new data coming out of Texas. On land, vehicles were parked in serried rows and two large tents had been erected on the only flat area. One of the tents contained an exobiologist who, with her team, was beginning the process of dissecting the dead snake-creature; in a live vidlink, information on their structure was already being shared with other specialists around the world. In one corner of the second large tent, Kevin Heggerty was briefing the UNIT commander, Major Jorge Ramirez, while around them other UNIT personnel got on with establishing communications and other essential tasks.

"_Gracias_, Mr Heggerty." Ramirez, a short, wiry man who liked to keep on the move, was already on his feet. "The cone, that is your responsibility. Everything else is mine. Okay?"

"Yes, sir. Just one thing. Lieutenant Walker, he must be kept secure."

"I know. A pity you shot him, it means I will not be able to question him until after the operation. Doctors, they do not like their patients to be interrogated while they are still bleeding. Hah!" He threw up his hands in disgust. "He is well guarded, do not worry."

"Thank you." Kevin was talking to empty space, Ramirez had already moved on.

Leaving the busy tent, Kevin climbed the sloping hill. The tent he had shared with Mills and Riley was set apart from the hustle and bustle but it had the best view of the area. From there Kevin was within a stone's throw of the hut with the cone and could survey all the activity on land and sea. Corporal Riley, on guard outside the hut, raised a hand in acknowledgement as Kevin passed.

At the tent, Sergeant Mills was sitting smoking a cigarette and watching the UNIT troops. "Your boss doesn't do things by halves."

Sitting down, Kevin smiled. "Your top brass were a bit taken aback too. But Ramirez knows what he's doing."

"What about Walker?"

"He's having his op and is well guarded." He was on board the cruiser which had a fully equipped surgical facility. "You get something to eat?"

"Yeah, thanks. Our job just to guard the hut?"

"Uh-huh."

The two men settled down to wait through the night.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

The familiar sights of Cardiff at night passed by the window of the car. Jack, in the back seat, looked out and was glad to be back after four days spent travelling around the world. He had been west then east, from the heat of Texas to the freezing cold of Siberia, and now he was in Wales again, a place he had called home for many years, and it was raining. Some things never changed.

"We'll be in Penarth in ten minutes, sir," said the driver.

"Good." Jack checked his watch – 00.46 – fourteen hours, give or take, until the portal opened. Plenty of time.

He gathered together the papers spread out on the seat beside him and stuffed them into the laptop case and zipped it shut. There were no more calls or messages on his mobile so he slipped it into his trouser pocket. A lot had happened, a lot was happening, but he could do nothing about it now. For these last few minutes, he blocked out everything and let his mind clear.

The car drew up in front of the Williams home, a semi indistinguishable from its neighbours. The rain had eased a little as Jack thanked the driver and walked up the path carrying his bag and laptop. The hall light shone through the glass of the front door indicating someone was awake. Jack was about to knock when the door opened and Rhys stood there, baby Daniel in his arms.

"Come on in, Jack."

"Thanks." Jack stepped inside. "Didn't expect to be coming here."

Rhys shrugged. "It was easiest. I'll put Daniel down again and get Gwen and Lois up. Alonso's in the front room." He started up the stairs.

Walking into the living room, Jack halted just inside. He put his bag and laptop down and shrugged out of his greatcoat, piling them up on an easy chair. When he looked back at the sofa, Alonso was blinking blearily. "Hi, handsome."

"You are here. I thought I was still dreaming."

"You dream about me? Good choice." He crossed to the sofa. "But I am no dream." He bent down and kissed the young man's lips.

Ten minutes later Gwen was up. She had slept well and felt ready to face the day, whatever it threw at her. Wearing the decent tracksuit she used on the rare occasions she went to the gym, she emerged from her bedroom scrunching her hair up on one side. She peeked into Daniel's room where he was lying quietly before, hopefully, going back to sleep. Exiting, she almost bumped into Lois.

"Sorry, love. Sleep okay?" She kept her voice low to avoid disturbing Daniel. He went to sleep quicker if it was quiet around him.

"Yes, thanks. Gwen, before we join the others …" She hesitated. "I'm really worried about Alonso going off with UNIT on his own. They looked at him so strangely."

"I'm not sure anyone need go with UNIT, they can handle these miners on their own. And I think maybe you're overreacting." She led the way down the stairs to get away from the baby's room.

"No, I don't think I am. You'll say I'm being silly but I'm sure I was followed last night and that my flat was watched. They could be outside now."

Gwen was far from convinced but she did not want to dismiss Lois's concerns out of hand. "We'll talk about it with Jack, see what he thinks." How many times had she said that, she wondered as they reached the foot of the stairs, and how good it felt to have him around. He was a maverick but he had always been there for her. After the past few days dealing with all of this on her own, she welcomed having someone to refer – even defer – to again. Jack never shirked the hard decisions and he wouldn't let her either.

"I could go with him," said Lois, bringing Gwen back to the here and now. "With Alonso. You know he'll insist on going along and he's done all on the work so far, he should be there at the end."

"You think you could hold off UNIT?" said Gwen with a smile. Lois was an outstanding administrator but had resolutely refused any operative training. She was unlikely to follow in Ianto's footsteps and make the leap from archives to frontline.

"If I had to." Lois was clearly offended.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like it. I'm sure you could. But I can't spare you, Lois. I need you here co-ordinating everything. There's so much going on, I can't do without you. We need to keep in touch with Selwyn and Kevin, and with Vasili when we find him. And there'll be research …" She smiled. "I need you for all that, Lois. But that doesn't mean taking chances with Alonso's safety. We'll find someone else to go with him if he insists on going along."

Lois accepted the role mapped out for her, it was what she was best at. "Thank you."

The two women were standing in the small hall. Noises from the kitchen confirmed Rhys was in there but as he was not talking Gwen correctly assumed Jack and Alonso were in the front room. She opened the door with Lois just behind her and stopped short. Jack and Alonso were on the sofa engaged in a vigorous game of tonsil hockey. Jack was underneath, his shirt and trousers undone with Alonso on top, stark naked with Jack's hands roaming over all parts of his anatomy, especially his arse. Both men paused long enough to glance at their audience then went back to what they were doing. The two women backed out without a word before bursting into fits of giggles.

"What's wrong with you two?" asked Rhys. He had a tray in his hands containing mugs and a packet of biscuits.

"Ah … living room's out of bounds for now," said Gwen.

"What? Why?" He made to move past them but his wife stopped him.

"No, Rhys. Jack and Alonso are getting reacquainted. Intimately reacquainted. Let's give them a moment."

"What do you mean 'getting – Oh! You mean they're …"

"Oh yeah. Let's give them five minutes. Jack was always quick." This gave rise to more giggles as the three of them went into the kitchen.

It was ten minutes later that Jack opened the door and peered out. His shirt was hanging outside his trousers and his hair was sticking up but he had a satisfied grin on his face. Wandering down the hall, he looked into the kitchen. "So this is where you're hiding."

"Had to wait somewhere. I'll send you the bill for cleaning the sofa," said Gwen. She pushed back her chair so she could get a better look at Jack who was behind her.

"Any chance of a coffee?" asked Alonso, pushing past Jack. He was fully dressed and rumpled but not in the least embarrassed.

"In the pot." Rhys stood, avoiding looking at the other two men. "I'll go and get some sleep." He quickly left the room.

Jack watched him go, grinning. "Is he going because of me?" he asked, coming further into the room.

"Don't flatter yourself. You want tea?" She remembered that Jack no longer drank coffee.

"Please."

He sat down as Gwen got up to make a fresh pot for him. Alonso plonked himself down on the sofa while the others sat at the table. Lois looked at him and Jack, marvelling how normal they both looked when just a few minutes earlier they had been … No, she decided, better not think about that. She poured some coffee into her mug.

"It's good to have you back, Jack," said Gwen, returning to the table with the teapot.

"Good to be back. I missed my home comforts," he smirked.

"God, you never change!"


	30. Chapter 25

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty Five

_Cardiff_

In the early hours of Monday morning, in the homely surroundings of the Williams' kitchen/diner in Penarth, amid piles of clothes waiting to be ironed and baby paraphernalia, the Torchwood team settled down for a detailed discussion. Lois Habiba sat at the table with a laptop open before her and a pad ready to note down action points. Beside her, Gwen Cooper scribbled discussion notes on a scrap of paper, trying to remember all that had happened over the past week; this was their last chance to make sense of it all. On the small sofa, Alonso Frame was sitting with knees up to his chest sipping coffee. Jack Harkness returned to the room with his own laptop and three bright yellow plastic carrier bags. He put the laptop on the table and peered into the bags.

"What's this," said Gwen with a smile, "been buying souvenirs?"

Jack shrugged. "Had time to kill at the airport. Here." He thrust a flat, soft parcel at her. Another of a similar shape and size went to Lois. He passed one of the carrier bags to Alonso. "There you go, Al."

Alonso grabbed it, grinning with childlike excitement. "What did you get me?"

"Open it and see." Jack went back to the remaining bags and drew out a bottle of vodka. "This is for Rhys and this," a soft, brown teddy bear appeared, "is for the kid. There's a few tins of caviar too, you can share those." He set the last carrier bag to one side. It contained more vodka for Selwyn and Kevin.

"Oh, Jack, this is beautiful." Gwen had unwrapped her parcel and unfolded a large woollen shawl in various shades of blue. "Thanks."

Lois also had a shawl, this time in green. "Thank you so much," she said. "I love it."

Jack smiled at them both as he sat at the table. "Glad you like them. What about you, Al?"

"Look, it's little people who all fit inside one another." He bounded over to the table to show them the set of traditional nesting dolls. "There's even a teeny tiny one." He held it up to show them, obviously delighted with his gift which had come with a bottle of vodka and some caviar.

"Thought you'd like them."

"I do." Alonso gave Jack a smacker of a kiss.

"Don't start that again!" said Gwen. "Daniel will love this." She was looking at the bear.

"That is so cute," agreed Lois.

Gwen looked across at Jack and wondered what had brought on the sudden thoughtfulness. He had not been like this before he had left, always having to be reminded about birthdays and even Christmas in one eventful year. Perhaps his time away had done him more good than she had realised. He certainly seemed more aware and considerate of Alonso's feelings; a legacy of his time with Ianto, she decided.

"Enough of all this," said Jack decisively. He was pleased they liked the gifts but still shied away from too much sentimentality.

"Yes, you're right." Gwen folded her shawl and put it and the other items on the side. Alonso reluctantly put his dolls back in the carrier bag and joined the others at the table. It was time to get down to business. "Where do we start?" she asked.

"This might be a good place," said Lois. She had checked the emails and found one from the FSB in Russia. "Vasili Karenchenko and his team of four were all killed in the snake-creatures' attack. They've just found the bodies."

"Oh no." Gwen was stunned.

"I suppose those creatures had to get lucky somewhere," put in Jack. He had read about the co-ordinated attacks on the drive down from London but had assumed that Vasili would have taken better precautions after the earlier encounter which had paralysed Pavel Gavrilov. "Anything new on what they are?"

"The autopsy is still in progress in the Falklands," replied Lois. She flicked through various screens. "The UNIT exobiologist is being very thorough and has a way to go yet. They're definitely extraterrestrial."

"A bit more haste might be in order there. Gwen, give them a prod."

"Who put you in charge?" she murmured archly. Despite this, she got out her mobile and called up Major Ramirez. Waiting for him to answer, she asked, "How did these creatures get here?"

"Sent ahead, I guess," said Jack. He was alarmed at how easily he had fallen back into the role of leader. This wasn't the reason he had returned to Earth but it seemed he couldn't help himself; the Doctor's example was too strong. He listened as Gwen spoke to UNIT.

She snapped her mobile shut. "Ramirez is going to hurry things along. Think we'll be able to neutralise them?"

"Sure. But better to wait for the right moment."

"Too late." Lois had all the bad news this morning. "The Australians are mounting a hunt for them using the energy signatures Hiram found."

"Damn!" Gwen flicked open her mobile again.

"No, let 'em try," said Jack. "Could give us some useful information."

"If you say so." Gwen texted Selwyn telling him to be careful and to keep her up to date. She was worried about him, hoping he had enough sense to rein in the Australians' worst excesses.

Jack was studying the vidlink of the creature's autopsy. "Once we've got more on the creatures we can try and work out when and how they came through but that's for later."

Alonso was also peering at the screen. "They look a bit like Claraids. Smaller, of course, but they could be related."

"Smaller!" The dead creature had been measured and was forty two feet long and seven feet round.

"Um. I've never seen one but there's plenty of rumours. You must have heard them, Jack."

"No, can't say I have. Still, that's a possible lead." He smiled his appreciation at Alonso. "What's the latest on the Irakiis?"

"In the asteroid belt. Still due here at midday." Alonso did not need to refer to his own laptop, he had checked on the aliens after his wake-up sex with Jack. "It's definitely them. We are going to stop them, aren't we, Jack?"

"Sure are." There was no doubting the older man's determination which made Gwen sit up and take notice.

"Jack, I know that's why you came back but … well, we need you here. You sent whatever it is to Cardiff, you can't leave me to deal with it on my own."

He looked from Alonso to Gwen knowing he had to disappoint one of them. And there was no doubt, in his mind, which it would be. The mining of the crestinoni was important but the depletion had not yet reached critical levels, it did not need his immediate attention, whereas the imminent opening of a transgalactic portal in the middle of Cardiff did. "I know," he said finally. His gaze was fixed on Alonso. "Al, I'm needed here otherwise I'd be with you. I need you to deal with the miners."

"Oh." Alonso had been looking forward to battling the Irakiis with Jack at his side. If only they had come at a different time – even just a few hours earlier or later – it would have been possible but now Jack was committed to stay in Cardiff. It was disappointing but inevitable. He resolved to ensure the Irakiis were seen off as quickly as possible so he could get back to help Jack.

"You can do it, Al. I have complete faith in you." Jack smiled at him warmly emanating confidence. "UNIT lined up to help?" he asked Gwen.

"Yeah." She glanced at Alonso who seemed happy enough; perhaps there was more steel in him than she had imagined. "They have the _Ark Royal_ on standby. We have to give them the word by – When is it, Lois?"

"Eight our time." She managed to catch Alonso's eye and smiled supportively. "But Alonso shouldn't go alone, not with UNIT." Regardless of Gwen's reassurance earlier, Lois was determined to continue to press for him to be accompanied.

"Why not? What have you done, Al?" Jack glanced at him.

"Alonso's not done anything," asserted Gwen. "He's been indispensable while you've been away. Helped us in all sorts of ways, has even started to create this … pyloxit field you want. He was goaded into losing his temper with the UNIT boss, that's all." Jack said nothing, just looked from Gwen to Alonso. It was clear he was waiting for a fuller explanation. This eventually came from Lois.

"UNIT know Alonso's an alien. I don't trust them –" She broke off when Jack burst out laughing.

"Good for you, Al!" He thought for a moment. "You up for going with them?"

Alonso shrugged. "Of course, I've seen off worse threats than them."

"I know. But I still think we will send someone with you." Jack looked over at Gwen. "Johnson still around?"

"Yes, I should have thought of her." At the start of the 456's return to Earth Agent Johnson had been sent to neutralise Torchwood, had masterminded the blowing up of Jack and the Hub before pursuing Gwen and Ianto, but once she understood what the Government was planning she had changed sides. Afterwards Gwen had ensured Johnson kept her job and was owed a favour. "I'll call her." Five minutes later Johnson was on her way to Cardiff. "All arranged," reported Gwen.

Jack nodded. "Good. Al, we'll chat before you go, get everything straight, okay?"

"Okay." The young man, reaching for another biscuit, appeared very relaxed about facing intergalactic miners-cum-smugglers while in danger of being kidnapped or worse by UNIT.

"Hang on a minute. Just what are Alonso and UNIT going to do?" Gwen looked from Jack to Alonso. "I don't need a fire fight in space on top of this portal thing."

"Haven't worked that out yet," replied Jack. "Doubt UNIT's up to taking them in a single attack. Besides, others may just come to find out what happened. No, we need a way of disabling them so they slink off with their tails between their legs. What do you think, Al?"

"Could rig up a surprise for them. I've looked over the _Ark Royal's_ specs. It's a bit primitive but I have a idea that I think will work."

"For Christ's sake don't tell UNIT the ship's primitive," said Gwen with feeling. "It's their pride and joy. They won't care if you're an alien or not, they'll chuck you out of an airlock! And are you really saying you can make these Irakiis leave without a fight?." She wanted to be clear as she would be the one handling the diplomatic fallout.

Alonso nodded. "Uh-huh." Sitting there he looked way too young to be confidently talking of deterring a potentially catastrophic encounter with aliens. But it was obvious Jack was confident Alonso was up to the task so Gwen accepted it too.

"So let's move on," said Jack. "So much to do and so little time."

"Tell me about it. Next on my list is Ilie Roman, the priest who seems to be at the centre of all this," said Gwen, referring to her notes. "He murdered two people in Paris, including a gendarme, and is suspected of another murder in Romania. I had to talk really fast to get access to him. The French and the Romanian police want him badly."

"I have an email from Inspector Thierry of the DCRI," said Lois. "She and a colleague are escorting him personally. They're booked on flight AF1680 which arrives at Heathrow at 07.50. There wasn't a direct flight to Cardiff until later."

"He's our key to the signals and the portal," said Jack, scrolling through the emails Alonso had hacked into. "These emails prove he's organised what we've found so far but what else might he have in store for us? And who's pulling his strings? We need more information and quickly." He looked across the table at Gwen. "I'll go meet him, bring him down here."

"You've only just got here!" she protested. She was reluctant to let Jack out of her sight; he was a slippery devil and might disappear again just when she needed him most. There was also the question of the French escort; they would not take kindly to being pushed aside.

He ignored her. "Lois, we got a van? Something closed and secure?"

"Yes. It's at the base." Torchwood had a small fleet of vehicles for transport and surveillance.

"Good. I'll need to leave here around six." He checked his watch: 02.13. "Plenty of time."

"What are you planning, Jack Harkness?" Gwen was leaning across the table frowning at him.

Jack met her gaze steadily. "He might need some persuasion to talk." It was very clear what he meant by that.

They stared at one another for several minutes before she said, "He could be necessary when the portal opens. We need him in one piece."

"He will be."

She said nothing for a while, the clock ticking loudly in the silence. "I'm coming with you. I need to hear what he says too so we can make our plans. Lois can hold the fort here." Going along would also mean she could sweet-talk this Inspector Thierry and restrain Jack if necessary.

"Just like old times," said Jack with a smile.

Gwen sat back and glanced over at Lois who looked startled at this turn of events. "We'll be back by midday at the latest and we'll have a comms link. Rhys will keep you company when he gets back."

"Where's he going?" Jack looked at her curiously.

"He's taking Daniel to my mam's." She looked defiant but he just nodded and went back to the laptop. She turned back to Lois. "Call Andy Davidson too, at a reasonable hour, and tell him what's going on. He'll jump at the chance to get into the base."

"All right." Lois felt a little happier knowing she would have some support while Gwen and Jack were out of the city.

"We really want the coppers involved?" asked Jack.

"He's our liaison and might be useful. Better to have him onside and briefed about what's going on than not." She moved the discussion along. "Any more idea of what's coming through the portal? If it is a portal."

"It's a portal all right. I've thought it for a while and the more we've found out has just confirmed it."

"But what's coming through?"

"A god. Or, more precisely, a goddess."

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

The Austin Bay Nature Reserve was a place of peace and serenity, somewhere visitors could fish, watch the wildlife and stay in designated camping areas to get away from the normal hustle and bustle of everyday life. On this day, however, the peace was well and truly shattered. In the waters of Point Birch four substantial boats were criss-crossing a wide area, their engines revving. Radio transmissions were broadcast loudly to be heard above the engines. The crews of the boats and watchers on shore were shouting and gesticulating to one another.

Selwyn Agnew stayed apart from this activity. Other than checking on the cone from time to time, he sat in the campsite and watched the ASIO agents and the staff of the nature reserve as they chased after the snake-creatures. Using the unique energy signatures they were able to track them but so far all attempts at capturing them had failed, the creatures merely stayed in the depths out of reach. One or two had come to the surface to snap at the boats but, alerted by the approaching energy signatures, the boats had got out of the way in time. Frustrated at the lack of success, the ASIO agents had proposed using depth charges but this had been quickly vetoed by the Reserve manager. Living alien creatures on his patch were bad enough but dead ones could have an irreversible affect on the food chain.

"You all right back here?" asked Mark Tang. He had come back from the shore to get another can of beer. "Come join the fun."

Selwyn smiled up at him. "No thanks. Just make sure you all stay behind the line." A yellow line had been sprayed on the ground some five metres from the water's edge, the limit of the snake-creatures' reach.

"No worries." Mark jogged back to join his colleagues.

Stretching out his long legs, Selwyn settled more comfortably in the chair and checked his mobile again. Gwen had rung to bring him up to date and say she was off to London with Jack; all future calls were to go to Lois. Once again Selwyn wished he was back in Cardiff instead of sitting in the sun drinking beer and watching crazy Australians chasing after creatures who were too canny to be caught. In Cardiff he could have taken some of the burden off Gwen and Lois, liaised with the MOD and the Churches and been there to face up to whatever came through the portal. He wanted to be in the thick of the action. Thinking of Lois all alone, he checked the time and decided it was too soon to call her. She was in the process of moving into the base and setting up the comms she would need. He decided to call in an hour and see if there was anything he could do to help her, he could at least offer advice if she needed it.


	31. Chapter 26

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty Six

_Cardiff_

Lois Habiba was the first person in the Torchwood base most mornings. Occasionally Kevin would arrive before her but not very often and Lois had come to appreciate the hour or so in which she was alone to sort out her own tasks for the day as well as check Gwen and Selwyn's diaries. On this Monday morning, however, aware that none of the team would be coming to join her, Lois felt lonely and vulnerable.

Gwen and Jack had driven off in the van two hours earlier, around six, on their way to London to take into custody Ilie Roman. They were unlikely to be back before noon. Selwyn had called in from Australia and offered his support but that didn't amount to a whole lot given he was thousands of miles away. Lois had heard nothing from Kevin but it was the middle of the night in the Falklands; she made a note to call him later. UNIT had stopped by to pick up Alonso and Agent Johnson. Checking the clock, she realised they would be boarding the _Ark Royal_, preparing to meet and defeat the Irakii miners.

She missed all her colleagues and doubted her own ability to cope in their absence.

"Don't be ridiculous," she told herself sternly. "You faced down the 456 and the Cabinet, you can face this." Her voice echoed eerily around the empty boardroom where she had installed herself, mocking her resolve. She picked up her mobile and called Andy Davidson.

"_Davidson." _

"Hi, Andy, it's Lois. Sorry for calling so early but I need to see you urgently."

"_Beautiful lady wants to see me? Best start to the week I've had for years,"_ he joked.

"It's important, Andy. Can you come to the office?"

"_Yeah."_ He was sobered by her earnest tone. _"What's up? Something happened to Gwen?"_ He still carried a torch for her after all these years.

"No, no she's fine. There's going to be some … activity later today. Need to go through it with you."

"_Oh no, not more spooky-dos." _

"'Fraid so." Despite the responsibility weighing her down Lois smiled. Andy didn't take much seriously. "I've got a pot of coffee."

"_Say no more. Be about twenty minutes." _

Lois replaced her mobile feeling less alone.

-ooOoo-

_London_

Heathrow Airport's Terminal Four was the usual hustle and bustle of people arriving and departing, a mix of tourists going on long haul flights and business executives taking day trips to mainland Europe. Gwen and Jack walked through the throng purposefully and the crowds parted; with his greatcoat billowing out and her costume of black trousers and jacket they did not encourage delay. In the arrivals hall, Jack stood in front of the doors through which passengers from flight AF 1680 would emerge not caring that he half-blocked it. Gwen sighed and stood to one side, taking a moment to check in with Lois back in Cardiff. Inspector Michelle Thierry and Pierre Gaspard were among the first passengers into the hall. Between them, handcuffed and held securely by both DCRI officers, was the small figure of Ilie Roman. Gwen recognised him from the photograph she had been sent and moved forward.

"Inspector Thierry?" she said. "I'm Gwen Cooper and this is my colleague, Jack."

Thierry nodded an acknowledgement. She was not happy her bosses had agreed to hand over her prisoner to Torchwood and a night without sleep had not changed her mind or helped her mood. However, she had been told to co-operate and that was what she would do – up to a point.

"Hi there," said Jack with a broad smile. "Pleased to meet you. Why don't I take those for you?" He reached out and smoothly took charge of the small battered suitcase and laptop case. "Gwen, help with our friend and lead the way." He then proceeded to charm Michelle Thierry who, even though a hardened law enforcement officer, found herself unable to resist and meekly followed Pierre and Gwen.

Weak sunshine met them as they left the terminal building and crossed to the Torchwood van, parked illegally just a few metres away. Ilie was secured in the back behind a mesh screen with Pierre for company while Jack, Gwen and Michelle got into the cab. Jack, driving as always, gunned the engine and roared off barely missing a taxi. The charm offensive continued and Gwen began to feel vaguely nauseous – how could anyone fall for his act? – but it worked and the standoffish Inspector willingly shared all she knew. Leaving Jack to it, Gwen watched the passing scenery change from London suburbs to green fields. They had agreed, on the drive up, on how to ditch the two DCRI officers and there was another half an hour before the plan would be put in motion. There would be a lot of flak from the French and possibly other members of the Network but she didn't care. Time was short if they were to protect Cardiff and the rest of the world.

-ooOoo-

_In the air _

The bridge of the _Ark Royal_ had a raised control section and a lower and larger area containing a conference table and chairs. Half a dozen people were seated at the table including Alonso Frame, his youthful countenance setting him apart from the rest who were either grizzled veterans or obviously experienced and competent. This did not bother Alonso who had been tested in many ways – not least on the damaged and failing _Titanic_ – and was confident of his own abilities.

He looked round him with only half an ear on the conversation. The ship looked impressive from the outside but he was disappointed by the interior. Corridors full of exposed pipes and wiring had met him as he journeyed up from the deck. Only here had the designers shown off with a huge space in totally the wrong part of the ship; the bridge was most vulnerable to attack. However, Alonso had not communicated his disappointment, mindful of Gwen's remarks about UNIT's pride in the ship.

He drew his attention back to the table. At the head was Captain Samuel Dwarris, one of the veterans, whose rich Jamaican accent fascinated Alonso. On the captain's left was Lieutenant Seifert and a tough-looking sergeant from UNIT's land forces in Wales and a young ships' officer. Opposite them were the ship's Executive Officer, Alonso himself and Agent Johnson. Clad in her customary black, quasi-military uniform and bristling with weapons she had stuck close to Alonso since leaving Cardiff. Her presence had disconcerted Alonso at first but once he saw how her unwavering stare and monosyllabic responses unsettled everyone else he had relaxed. If he had to have a bodyguard there was no one better for the job.

Lieutenant Seifert was rounding off his summary of the mission. "So, Captain, that's why the Brigadier requested you. It's essential we intercept the alien ship and prevent the mining of our atmosphere."

"I see. What I need to know is how you expect me to do that. My orders are to avoid force if possible. I don't have much else."

"I believe Mr Frame has some ideas on that point. Alonso?" He smiled at the young man encouragingly.

"The Irakiis are scavengers and traders. Their ships are functional but mostly stolen or adapted using technology which they don't bother to understand. I've studied the specs for the ship on this run, it's Munnic." He paused looking round and saw incomprehension on most faces, only Siefert understood as Alonso had already explained it to him. "Munnic ships are segmented, compartmentalised if you like, and held together by a series of interlocking clamps. All we have to do is release the clamps and the ship will fly apart."

"I thought we weren't supposed to kill them." Dwarris did not like his orders, preferring annihilation to more subtle methods when dealing with aliens, but orders were orders.

"We won't. The segments are air tight, or rather liquid tight –" He noticed more incomprehension. "Irakiis breathe ammonia filtered from the liquid in which they live. It's quite interesting how they evolved. They –"

"Alonso, perhaps we could keep that for another time." Seifert smiled to show he was not displeased just wanting to keep the conversation on track. He had been given command of this mission - Brigadier Burke-Tarkleton was needed in Cardiff - and did not want to mess up. "We have only a few hours to prepare for the encounter." The _Ark Royal_ was now at her cruising altitude well above normal flight paths and heading north for Sweden.

"Okay. Where was I? Oh yes, the ship. It'll fly apart stranding the Irakiis in the various segments. They'll be vulnerable as it's quite a trick to get them all back together in the right order – took me ages to learn how to do it! – and clamp them back up. All we need to do is stand off a ways and look threatening." Alonso was grateful the _Ark Royal_ looked better on the outside; if the Irakiis saw the muddle inside they would not be impressed.

Captain Dwarris looked at the Lieutenant who nodded his support for the plan. "And how do we … release these clamps? I'm not sending my men out to do it. "

"'Cos not, we send out an neutron pulse."

-ooOoo-

_Chieveley Services, M4_

"Time for a pit stop, folks," announced Jack taking the slip road to the motorway services. "We'll take a short break here, grab some drinks and something to eat."

"Eet is good country," said Michelle in an attractive Parisian accent. This was only her second time in England and her first outside London. She had enjoyed comparing the scenery with that of her homeland. Here, everything was much greener.

"England's green and pleasant land," agreed Jack with a smile.

"Not bad, I suppose," conceded Gwen. Her Welsh heritage allowed for only grudging praise of anything English.

The van followed a family estate car bursting at the seams with children and dogs into the large car park. The estate quickly found a space close to the main building which contained two restaurants, a fast food outlet, a shop, a small games arcade and toilets while Jack drove on to a sparsely populated area further away. He made sure the van was facing the exit and that the rear was shielded by a raggedy hedge.

"This'll do," he said, cutting the engine. "Gwen, I'll stay here with bozo while you escort our guests to sample the delights of motorway cuisine. Plastic sandwiches, grease and dreadful coffee all at sky-high prices." He grinned but was not far from the mark.

"But vot about you?" Michelle looked perturbed, a small frown creasing her brow.

"I've seen it all before. Bring me back a bacon butty and a Coke." He opened his door and climbed down, stretching cramped muscles. Walking round to the back, he unlocked the doors and checked inside. Pierre Gaspard and his prisoner were in the same seats they had taken at the start of the journey. Jack unlocked the mesh screen. "He given you any trouble?"

"No. Vaire are we?" Gaspard climbed out of the van leaving Jack to secure the mesh door.

"Newbury," replied Gwen. "It's a service area. We'll get some food and drinks, take them with us. Jack'll keep an eye on him." She gestured to Ilie Roman sitting in the padded seat watching them through narrowed eyes. "Give you a break."

"Better leave your weapons here," added Jack. Both DCRI agents were visibly armed while Jack and Gwen had removed theirs shortly after leaving Cardiff. "Don't want to alarm the natives."

Reluctantly, Thierry and Gaspard removed the guns and holsters from their belts and put them in the metal box bolted to the floor of the van between the rear and mesh doors. The two of them strolled off with Gwen.

Jack watched them go, leaving the rear van doors open to circulate some fresh air. The van was air conditioned but the closed interior had a musty smell. Leaning against the mesh screen, he took a good look at Ilie Roman. The man was small and slight but wiry for all that. He was 32 but looked older in the careworn way common to many Eastern Europeans whose way of life was harder than in the softer West. Roman looked away first which pleased Jack. His training as an interrogator had stressed the importance of obtaining and maintaining dominance. The sooner Roman understood who was boss, the easier it would be to get the information they needed from him. He picked up Roman's laptop, noticed the man's momentary panic, smiled and slammed the door. There must be something on the laptop that the little Romanian did not want him to see.

Climbing back into the cab, on the passenger side, he slipped the laptop out of the expensive case and opened it. While it booted up he got out the power leads and plugged it in to charge up. When he looked back at the screen it was requesting a password. Michelle Thierry had told them her technicians had tried to get in but could not crack it in the ten hours they had had available. Taking a flash drive from his shirt pocket, Jack put it in the USB port and watched as one of Toshiko's special programs took ten seconds to bypass the password and give him access to everything inside. With the translation program activated – Jack did not understand Romanian – he was soon reading the latest emails and flicking through the various documents. Lost in the electronic labyrinth he was startled when the driver's door opened.

"Take this." She held out a carrier bag. "Let's get out of here." She settled into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"It work okay?"

"Yeah. Can't say it felt right but it worked." She looked grim and concentrated on weaving through the vehicles heading for the motorway.

"They'd just be in the way." Jack had found a bottle of Coke in the carrier bag and took a sip.

"I know. Even so." As they passed the main building she saw Thierry and Gaspard just inside the main doors trying to explain to a brace of security guards why unpaid for goods were in their pockets. She spoke into her comms. "Lois, got a job for Andy. Get him to liaise with the Berkshire force. We need Thierry and Gaspard, two French shoplifters at Chieveley Services, to be held incommunicado until three this afternoon."

"_I'll pass that on. Are you on your way back?"_

"Yeah. Anything happening your end?"

"_MOD are still making waves about us taking over in the Falklands. The Secretary of State has been on too; I referred him to No. 10." _

"Good. It's only for another few hours," assured Gwen. Too few hours, she thought. "Need me for anything more?" She was now back on the motorway proper and needed to concentrate on her driving.

"_No, that's all. See you soon." _

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

Andy Davidson, lounging in a chair in the boardroom with a mug of coffee in front of him, looked across at Lois in surprise. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"There's nothing she can do about it. She's got enough on her plate. We're going to have to deal with it."

"We?"

"All right, I'll deal with it." She shuffled papers. "Gwen wants you to talk to the police in Berkshire. Get them to hold these people who have been arrested for shoplifting at Chieveley Services. They have to be out of contact with anyone until after three o'clock." She slid a piece of paper across the desk.

"For shoplifting? You don't get sent to Guantanamo Bay for shoplifting."

"They just need to be kept from lawyers and the French embassy. Tell them it's a matter of national security. If they won't do it for you, use the Torchwood authority. Here." Another piece of paper slid across the desk with the fourteen digit code which all police forces recognised.

"Be a change to use this, normally I'm on the receiving end."

"Just do it, Andy. Use the phone in Gwen's office, I want to do a web link with Selwyn."

Andy paused, suddenly becoming serious. "Want me to stay? I will help, you do know that?"

She smiled. Andy Davidson was a friend as well as professional colleague and she was glad he was here to support her but he did not have the expertise she needed. "Of course I do. You make the call for Gwen. I only want to pick Selwyn's brains, he is the diplomat after all."

Once Andy had left, Lois activated the plasma screen and dialled up Selwyn. Very soon the screen cleared and his slightly sunburned face appeared. "Selwyn, hi. I need your advice."

"_I wish I could do more, Lois." _He was sitting in his RV balancing the laptop on his knee. It was late afternoon and would soon be dark. _"I feel pretty useless stuck here." _

"It can't be helped. You're needed there."

"_I know. Anyway, what can I do for you?" _

"Tell me how to deal with a couple of archbishops."

"_What?"_ He stared at the screen wondering if this was a joke. But Lois looked very serious and she was not known as a joker. _"What are you talking about?"_

"Ever since No. 10 circulated the info about the sightings being bogus the Church representatives have been protesting. I thought they'd accepted it, reluctantly perhaps, but apparently not. Archbishop Nicholls has been lobbying the other Church leaders and late yesterday they saw the PM."

"_Oh no. What did snake in the grass Denise Riley do?"_

"Washed her hands of the whole thing." Lois couldn't hide her disgust. Yet another of the UK's elected leaders was proving to be a spineless coward. "Said the information came from us and they had better take it up with us. And so Archbishops Nicholls and Williams are on their way to Cardiff. Be here in," she checked the wall clock, "about an hour."


	32. Chapter 27

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty Seven

_Outside Marlborough, Wiltshire_

The sandwiches were better than Jack had predicted and Gwen ate her BLT hungrily washing it down with water. She was on lookout, leaning against a tree in a field that had been recently ploughed. The brown earth stood up in regimented ridges ready for whatever crop was going to be planted, just like all the fields she could see stretching up the gentle hillside. It was a peaceful scene broken only by the sound of traffic on the A4 on the other side of the high hedge behind which the van was parked. And the occasional muffled scream.

Finishing the sandwich, Gwen looked across at the van which rocked as something hard hit the side panel from the inside. She winced. Jack had been working on Ilie Roman for the past twenty minutes and he was not being subtle. She supposed they didn't have time for subtlety but she still didn't like this form of interrogation. An image came to her. A woman in a chair with a metal cap on her head being bombarded with some kind of waves that delved into her brain; Jack insisting the wave level be increased. Beth, that had been her name, Gwen remembered, and she had been an alien, one of a murderous sleeper cell, but seeing Jack in that pitiless mood had not been pretty.

She sighed and scrunched up the sandwich wrappings before taking a long swig of water. It had not been like this in Torchwood for the past eighteen months but they had not faced such an immediate threat either. She wondered what she would have done if Jack had not returned. Would she have interrogated Ilie and got the information they needed? Not like this and her way would have taken longer, probably too long. With a wry smile she realised she probably wouldn't have realised the significance of the original signals early enough anyway and would never have reached this point. Deciding not to dwell on what-might-have-beens any longer – the decisions had been made and it was too late to unmake them – she checked her mobile. There was a text from Rhys. Daniel was settled with her parents and Rhys was on his way back to Cardiff. She checked her watch - 10.14 - less than five hours to the opening of the portal.

Five minutes later the rear doors of the van opened and Jack emerged. Spots of blood and other matter were spattered on his shirt and trousers and his face was sweaty and grim. He did not like interrogations of this kind but he had never shirked the dirty jobs. Ragged breathing came from inside the van, as if through a broken nose, accompanied by whimpering. Jack slammed the doors shut and sucked in fresh air.

"Well?" Gwen had come round to face him and held out the half-drunk bottle of water.

"He coughed up the lot." He took a long drink from the bottle. "And it confirms all I found on the laptop."

"So?" she prompted.

"Cardiff is about to be visited by The Lady, or Holy Semiramis if you prefer. Our friend in there is the last in a long line of hereditary priests of her cult. Reckons he's the Patriarch." Jack finished the drink. He threw the bottle into the bushes and stooped to wipe his bloody hands on a clump of grass.

"Who is she, this Semiramis?"

"Depends who you listen to. To some she's the spirit of all matter, to others she's a powerful queen. Here on Earth she's known as Gaia, Baalti, Madonna, the Mediatrix, Astarte. Take your pick."

"She's been here before." It was half-statement, half-question. Gwen retrieved the discarded bottle and put it in the bag with the other rubbish.

"Yep, a long time ago which is when and why the hereditary priest rigmarole started. She started out in Babylon and left such a strong memory behind her the myth spread around the ancient world to China, Egypt and eventually Europe. She appears in lots of legends and ancient writings. Other religions and gods replaced her but the myth was strong enough to be incorporated into most of them, including Christianity."

Gwen was pacing up and down, processing the information. "The Virgin Mary."

"So some people think. Whether it's true or not … " He shrugged.

She stopped and faced Jack. "Who is she really?"

"A Wikoo. They travel around a lot, either on their own or in pairs, settling on undeveloped worlds for a while then moving on. They beguile the population into believing they're gods and live a life of luxury. Either the Wikoo leave of their own accord or they're chucked out. This one, Semiramis, left. Probably got bored. But now she's on her way back."

"Why now? Why after all this time? It's been, what, thousands of years."

"The Wikoo live a long time by human standards. Up to nine or ten thousand of your years. I'm guessing she was quite young when she was last here. As to what she wants … that's easy. She wants to be adored and worshipped, the whole population to bow down before her and to grant her every whim. In other words, she wants to enslave Earth."

"Can she do that? We're not the underdeveloped ancients she knew."

Jack gave her a pitying look. "To her you are."

Gwen was taken aback. If all the human advances of the past few thousand years meant nothing would they ever be able to hold their own against Semiramis or all the other alien species? Were humans destined to be the plaything of them all? No, she decided, throwing back her shoulders and standing up straight. They had seen off plenty of stronger aliens in their time and they would do it again or go down fighting. "So what do we do?"

Having seen all these emotions flit across her expressive face, Jack laughed and hugged her. "That's my Gwen! Ready for whatever the universe throws at you."

"And it's thrown quite a bit," she answered with a smile. She was hugging him back, drawing on his confidence.

"I know."

Sobering, Jack lessened his hold but kept her in his arms. He looked down at her upturned face. Ghosts of other friends and fellow Torchwood operatives swam into his vision like an army ranked behind Gwen, the only one left standing. The faces of the most recent dead were clearest – Toshiko, Owen and Ianto – and Jack acknowledged the love he had felt for them all. He felt their loss keenly and did not want to lose Gwen the same way. He wanted to protect her as she had protected her son, to send her away from danger.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"That we need to get back to Cardiff." He kissed the top of her head and released her, stepping back. "Gotta rig up the pyloxit field."

"Will that hold her?" She shivered as his warmth was removed.

"Not a chance, but it's a start."

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

The convoy of large black cars drove slowly in through the Torchwood gates. Lois and Andy stood at the entrance to the building and watched as the three cars drew up almost silently, fanning out so that the middle of the three was closest to the entrance. The leading car held aides who were the first to appear, hopping out almost before the vehicle had stopped and going to the second. They opened the rear doors and stood to attention as two older, distinguished men got out and walked slowly to where Lois and Andy waited. Scampering after them from the third car came Kwame Olongo, the Prime Minister's representative, straightening his suit jacket and juggling a bulging briefcase.

"This is it then," murmured Andy standing a little straighter.

"Yes." Lois took a deep breath and stepped forward. She felt under-dressed and wished she had taken the time to change into something other than trousers and a long sleeved top but she had not expected to be meeting the Archbishops of Canterbury and Westminster today. "Your Grace. Your Grace," she said to each in turn with a small inclination of the head. "Welcome to Torchwood. My name is Lois Habiba, Head of Administration, and this is Sergeant Andrew Davidson, our police liaison." They all shook hands.

During the introduction of the aides the civilised scene was shattered by the sound of a loud vehicle engine racing towards them. The whole group looked round to the gates, startled at the interruption, and watched in mingled amazement and horror as a green SUV with bull bars on the front slammed into the gates taking one off its hinges and leaving the other swinging loosely. The vehicle screeched to a halt close to the three cars and half a dozen men in combat gear and ski masks and carrying submachine guns fell out and surrounded the group at the building's entrance. For a moment no one moved or said anything.

"Vere ees 'Arkness?" shouted one of the masked men waving his weapon menacingly. His words were heavily accented.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Andy, stepping round Lois to face the man who had spoken. "You can't just come in here waving guns around, this is Wales. 'Sides, you got permits for them?"

"Vere ees he!" The gun was now levelled at Andy's chest.

"Andy, be careful," said Lois. "Who do you want?" she asked the masked man.

"Come on now, put those guns down and we'll say no more about this," continued Andy. His heart was thumping fast and he was scared but also determined. "I'm a police officer and you can't go –"

Whatever he was going to say was lost in a burst of gunfire. Andy fell to the ground. Lois fell backwards into the shelter of the entrance. Kwame Olongo ducked down behind a car. Someone screamed and continued to scream until suddenly silenced. An aide ran at one of the masked men and was cut down. The archbishops, pushed into the comparative safety behind the vehicles, began to pray loudly. More gunfire and more screaming and shouts then everything was still and quiet.

Three minutes of silence followed until broken by an approaching car. Rhys drove through the shattered gates very slowly and stopped. Before him were four vehicles surrounded by bodies. Some of the bodies lay in pools of blood which spread slowly. Others looked like they were asleep. Nothing moved. Cautiously, Rhys opened his car door and stepped out. From this better angle he could see submachine guns and that some of the men were masked. An attack or raid of some kind, one that had gone wrong because the masked men were also lying on the ground. What had happened? Was everyone dead?

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

The interior of the RV was cooling as night fell. Selwyn sat with the web link open to the Cardiff base. He had agreed to be part of Lois's meeting with the archbishops even if only via a screen and was expecting them to appear in the boardroom at any minute. He tapped the laptop impatiently and took a swig from the can: he was growing to like Emu Bitter.

Mark Tang appeared at the open door. "They've given up for the night," he reported, coming in and sitting on the small sofa. The snake hunt had gone on most of the day with long breaks for meals, beer and consultations but they hadn't come close to catching one of the creatures.

"Good. We can try something a little more intelligent tomorrow now we've got the results of the autopsy."

The UNIT exobiologist in the Falkland Islands had finally completed her work and details had been forwarded to all interested parties. She had uncovered a nodule in their brain similar to others found in extra-terrestrial creatures. It received signals from controllers, signals that could send the pack creatures in any direction, to attack or defend. The creatures themselves had limited independent intelligence, enough to select targets and adopt rudimentary tactics only. Current belief was that control of the packs lay with Lieutenant Timothy Walker who was being questioned at that moment. No one was sure what, if anything, the creatures would do without his controlling influence.

"Umm." Mark leaned over to look at the laptop screen. "Where's that?"

"Cardiff base. The boardroom where Lois and the others should be by now. What is going on?" He reached for the mobile and punched speed dial. It rang five times then went to voice mail.

"_This is Lois Habiba I am –" _

Selwyn cut it off. "Damn. Where is she?" For the millionth time that day he wished he was not so far away.

-ooOoo-

_Falkland Islands_

The early morning was misty and cold. In the grey light of dawn, the Land Rover sped along the roads and into RAF Mount Pleasant. The base was on alert, officers and men aware of the UNIT troops operating in the south and not liking it. Rumours were circulating and all of them agreed on one point, this had something to do with the visitor, Kevin Heggerty. So far, the civilian population had slept through the troops' arrival but it would soon become common knowledge when it would undoubtedly give rise to alarm and confusion. Memories of the 1982 invasion were still strong.

Kevin, the passenger in the Land Rover, was not concerned about these things. At six on this cold spring morning, his mission was to find the device that controlled the snake-creatures. Walker's clothing and vehicle had been searched and nothing found; now it was time to search his quarters. The driver drew up outside the main base entrance and Kevin hopped out. The huge building housed living quarters, messes and leisure facilities as well as administration and he was glad the driver/guard knew his way around.

One of the sentries on the door stopped them. "Commodore Partridge wishes to see you right away."

"I need to get to Lieutenant Walker's quarters first."

"After you've seen the Commodore, sir. He's in the Conference Room."

"I really don't have time for this," protested Kevin. He had left the cone in the charge of Sergeant Mills and did not want to be away for long.

"Sorry, sir, those are orders. He's not alone, got H E in with him."

"H E?"

"His Excellency the Governor. Not a happy man is His Excellency." The sentry gave Kevin a speculative glance. "Best if you don't keep them waiting."

"All right." Better to get it over with quickly.

Kevin and the private walked on, turned a corner and halted outside an impressive set of double doors. Kevin patted his hair back into a semblance of tidiness and rubbed the toes of his boots on the backs of his trousers. Knocking once, the private opened the door.

"Mr Heggerty, sir."

"Come in." Commodore Partridge had been up most of the night and yet still managed to look dapper making Kevin feel even more unkempt; he had been in the same clothes for nearly three days. With him in the large conference room was a man of medium height, abundant wavy red hair and a military bearing although dressed as a civilian. "Governor Wray, this is Kevin Heggerty of Torchwood. Mr Heggerty, His Excellency Governor Wray, Her Majesty's representative on the Islands."

"Sir." Kevin came to attention wondering how to address a Governor. Was it Your Governorship? Your Excellency? He decided to stick with 'sir'.

"I've been explaining to the Governor what I know about the Argentinian troops –" began Commodore Partridge.

"UNIT troops, sir. They are part of UNIT and just happen to be based in Argentina."

"A fine distinction, Mr Heggerty," put in the Governor. His voice was low and even with a West Country burr. "When the people of these Islands become aware of the troops, and believe me they will, we'll have widespread panic."

"I understand." Kevin waited, not sure whether he should proceed or not. Both the men in the room outranked him many times over and while not cowed, he was nonetheless wary of overstepping the mark.

"Sit down, Mr Heggerty and tell me what's going on," invited the Governor. "Commodore, could I have some more coffee? Haven't been up this early in a long time." As the Commodore poured coffee for all of them, Wray went on, "This has something to do with an alien invasion, is that right?"

"Not quite, sir." Kevin accepted the coffee, took a sip, and then launched into the story of finding the signals, the cones and the attacks by the snake-creatures. He kept to the main points, used to telling the story by now. He concluded with, "And so we expect something to arrive, in Europe, just before midday our time. We don't know what will happen and are exploring all avenues to gain information. That's why we needed UNIT's technicians to dissect the snake-creature." He turned to Commodore Partridge. "I need to search Lieutenant Walker's quarters, sir, as soon as possible. There could be something there that will help us."

"I don't know." In the two days Kevin had been on the Islands a trooper had died in mysterious circumstances and Kevin himself had shot and wounded Lieutenant Walker. Partridge would have liked him in the brig but had been overruled.

"Let him go," said the Governor. "I was in London for the Canary Wharf fiasco. If this is anything like that they need all the help they can get. You and I can prepare a statement for broadcast."

Kevin made a hasty exit and found the private waiting for him outside. Ten minutes later they were in the Lieutenant's quarters and ten minutes after that Kevin found what he was looking for.


	33. Chapter 28

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty Eight

_In the air over Sweden_

The _Ark Royal_ hovered on the edge of quadrant 3.79 beta at the very edge of the stratosphere. Sensors were on maximum and a regular pinging sound indicated contact with the approaching Irakii miners' ship. It was still on course to arrive in one hour's time and would soon be in visual range. Until then its progress was shown on a diagram projected on the main viewscreen.

The bridge was full of people busily engaged in maintaining the ship's systems. The Executive Officer was in the central captain's chair monitoring the helm and navigation officers whose jobs were to keep the ship in position. If they ventured into the mesosphere the much colder temperatures would adversely affect all the _Ark Royal's _systems and they would plummet the fifty kilometres back to the surface of the Earth. The science officer stood by his workstation, pushed to one side by Alonso who was sitting and Lieutenant Siefert who was hanging over his shoulder. All three men were concentrating on the data coming in from the sensors and displayed on the various screens and dials. Control of the reconfigured neutron pulse had been transferred to this station and Alonso regularly checked the energy build up; it had to be at 100% or this wouldn't work. It was currently 38%.

A few feet away, leaning against the side wall, Agent Johnson watched everyone closely. Her job was to protect Alonso and her attention was on him 99% of the time. But she was human and every so often she allowed herself a peek out of the thick reinforced windows at the intense blue and faint hint of stars in the blackness beyond. She had never been this high up before and was enjoying the experience, not that anyone would have known. Her normal stern expression had not changed.

"Mr Thomas, report." Captain Dwarris had entered the bridge quietly and now stood beside his Exec.

The Executive Officer rose quickly and vacated the captain's chair. He had a good relationship with the captain but knew not to take liberties. "Holding position, sir."

"Good. Lieutenant Seifert?" He walked across to join the huddle around the science station.

"We're good, sir. Right, Alonso?" The UNIT man stepped back to allow the captain sight of the screens.

"So far. Energy's taking a long time to build but I guess that's to be expected." The technology on the ship was far more primitive than he was used to but he wisely didn't say so.

"Will it be ready in time?" asked the captain.

"I don't know. Maybe." Alonso shrugged but did not sound or appear too worried. Since his experience on the failing _Titanic_ he had developed a fatalism that had been reinforced by his association with Jack who was always blithely confident of success. What would be, would be. Alonso intended to do all he could to stop the Irakiis and saw no need to worry about what might go wrong. He looked round. "Any chance of a coffee? And a biscuit maybe? I like chocolate digestives." There was a small ripple of released tension and amusement.

"Yeoman." Captain Dwarris indicated she should see to Alonso's request. "Is there anything we can do to increase the power transfer?"

The science officer answered. "No, sir. We're tapping into all non-essential systems already."

"Let's hope that's enough. How long until they're here?" he asked, taking his seat. Like Alonso, Captain Dwarris was calm and confident in the face of any crisis and expected his officers to be the same.

"Fifty eight minutes, sir."

"Set up a countdown."

"Aye, sir." Moments later a soft voice began intoning the time remaining until contact in ten second intervals.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

"Why, Rhys? Why did I get to hear about this from Selwyn? He's nine thousand miles away for Christ's sake!" Gwen stood with hands on hips glaring at her husband.

"I was busy clearing up the mess!" he snapped back.

"Lover's tiff?" queried Jack. He entered the boardroom propelling a battered and handcuffed Ilie Roman before him.

"Butt out! This is all your fault, Jack Harkness." Rhys had turned on him.

"Me? What did I do?" He forced Ilie into a chair in the corner. "Stay."

He and Gwen had got back to Cardiff minutes before after a mad dash down the M4. They had been on their way when the call from Selwyn had reached them. Alarmed at not being able to reach Lois or Andy Davidson, he had called the Cardiff police who had investigated. His news had alarmed Gwen who had raced to cover the miles to Cardiff not knowing who the masked attackers were, not understanding why the two archbishops had been there and, most importantly, not knowing what had happened to Rhys, Lois or Andy. Arriving at the base, she had ignored the police officers and hugged Rhys before dragging him inside and angrily demanding explanations.

"Killed people, that's what you did."

Jack stared at him. "When?"

"In Russia! The bloody KGB or whatever they are came to get you for killing their people."

"I didn't kill anyone." Jack was offended. He didn't mind taking the blame for what he had done but objected to being accused of something he hadn't. "What are they talking about?"

"Apparently," said a laconic voice from the doorway, "they think you killed five people in Irkutsk or at least know something about it."

"Andy, it is so good to see you." Gwen reined in her anger and went to her former partner and hugged him. "Are you all right?"

"Got a thumping headache but no worse than after a Saturday night clubbing." He reluctantly let go of Gwen and held up a plastic evidence bag full of wallets and passports. "These are the blokes' papers. According to the spooks they're attached to the embassy and want to take Captain America here back to Russia."

"I didn't do anything," repeated Jack plaintively.

"We'll sort that out in a minute. Come and sit down, Andy." She was fussing over him, taking a moment to collect her thoughts, when a new arrival appeared in the doorway. "Lois, sweetheart, you're back. Are you okay?" The administrator looked shaky and her features were drawn with pain.

"Just a headache. I'm sorry, Gwen, I really made a mess of things." She blinked but could not stop the tears.

"Don't be silly." Gwen held her for a moment, leading her to a chair and sitting beside her. "I don't know what went on here but I'm sure it wasn't your fault. Rhys, get us all some drinks."

It took a while but eventually Gwen and Jack had a full account of what had happened. While still greeting the archbishops, masked men had stormed the base and held them all at gunpoint, opening fire when one of the aides and later a driver had charged them. Seeing people shot, Lois had fallen back and activated one of the Torchwood defences, a sonic wave that had knocked out everyone including herself. Coming upon the scene a few minutes later, Rhys was busy checking people for life signs and securing the machine guns when the local police, called in by Selwyn, had arrived. Luckily Rhys knew the Torchwood authorisation code and had avoided arrest but it was a close call. The effect of the wave wore off pretty soon afterwards and Andy had got his colleagues to take the archbishops, their people and Kwame Olongo to hospital for medical attention. Two drivers and an aide were dead and these were taken to the morgue. Lois and Andy were unharmed but had also gone to hospital for a check-up. The half dozen attackers were now in custody and had claimed diplomatic immunity.

"They told us what they were here for before they were taken," put in Rhys. "Couldn't shut 'em up."

"The wave has that effect." Jack was standing, arms folded and looking thoughtful. "Why would they think I killed Vasili? That was the snake-creatures."

"We'll sort that later. We know you didn't do it, you were in Moscow." She turned her attention to other matters. "Lois, I got a really garbled message from Selwyn. What were Archbishops Williams and Nichols doing here? And why didn't you tell me about them coming?"

"They were demanding explanations about the sightings. I didn't want to bother you when you were busy." She shot a sideways glance at the small figure in the corner. "Selwyn agreed to talk to them, we had the web link all set up. I'm sorry."

"Thank God you brought him in on it, at least there was someone to raise the alarm." She looked over at Andy. "Are they all right?"

"Doctors are keeping them under observation. Mainly just shaken up, they're not used to all the spooky-dos in Cardiff."

"That'll keep them out of the way for a while then," said Jack. "Time's getting on, I have work to do on the pyloxit field. You clear up here." He pulled Ilie Roman to his feet. "I'll keep this one with me."

Ilie had no idea what was going on or who these people were. Since being arrested at Lourdes he had been drowning in despair. So close to the moment of his triumph he had failed The Lady. No one would be there to welcome her back and to give her the adoration she deserved. And his failure meant his own ignominy; he would not be at her side when she took back her rightful place in the world. The journey to Paris and then London, the interrogations, meant nothing. Even the beating he had received from Jack was as nothing to his miserable failure. He wanted to die.

"Who is that and what happened to him?" asked Andy. The man's battered state had aroused his sympathy but obviously not anyone else's.

"He's the bastard that's created this mess," said Gwen dismissively. "Because of him Cardiff's going to be invaded yet again. Get him out of my sight, Jack." She waited until the two men had left, glancing at the clock to check the time: 11.23. A little over three hours to go. "Lois, Andy, are you okay to carry on? If you need to rest, there's the first aid room in the back."

"I'm fine," said Lois.

"Me too," added Andy. "What do you need?" He decided to turn a blind eye to the captive. Lois had told him enough about coming events for him to understand there was no time to waste.

"Make sure those FSB agents are kept secure. No contact with the embassy." This reminded her of the two DCRI agents left in Newbury. "Did the Berkshire police co-operate about the others?"

"Yes. Not happy about it but they did it. Locking up foreigners is getting to be an habit with you." He smiled as he stood. "Okay if I use one of the phones out there?"

Gwen nodded. "Lois, we need a cover story for the attack. See what you can do and start feeding it to the media."

"What will you be doing?" Lois stood preparatory to leaving the room.

"Having words with the FSB chief. I do not take kindly to my base and my people being attacked." She was in the mood to tear him off a strip and reached for the keyboard intending to use the boardroom for the web link.

"What about me?" asked Rhys when he and Gwen were alone.

She looked across at him. He was her rock and she had treated him badly. "Come here and give me a hug. I'm sorry, cariad, I didn't mean to shout at you." She was enveloped in his arms and felt his comforting support flowing into her and shoring up her own reserves.

"That's all right." He kissed the top of her head before gently pushing her away. "Now, you've got things to do. Tell me what you want done and I'll do it."

She ran a hand through her hair and gazed out of the window. "Can you sort out that mess?" She waved at the broken gates and cars still parked haphazardly in front of the building. The police had gone, dismissed by Gwen who had overriding authority.

"'Cos I can. Logistics is what I do." After another brief kiss, he left.

-ooOoo-

_Falkland Islands_

Just after passing through North Arm, a small settlement which was just starting to wake up on this Monday morning, Kevin asked his driver to pull over. The private complied, assuming his passenger needed to take a leak, choosing a gravelled bank with hedges for privacy. Jumping out, Kevin stepped away from the Land Rover to stand on a small hillock. He got out his mobile phone and, after a moment's hesitation, speed dialled Selwyn.

"_Hey, Kevin. How's it going over there?"_

"Not bad. Look, I need some advice and don't know who else to ask." Kevin made sure the driver was still in the vehicle and out of earshot.

"_Fire away. Got problems with UNIT? Or is the MOD again?"_ The team had kept up to date with each other and their findings despite being so far away and Selwyn was well aware of all that had and was happening in the Falklands and the difficulties Kevin had encountered.

"Neither. You know I found the man who controlled the snake-creatures?"

"_I heard you shot him. Good for you. They're not making a fuss about it, are they?"_

"No!" Kevin found it hard enough to explain himself face-to-face and over the phone was proving even more difficult with Selwyn's constant interruptions.

"_Sorry. Just tell me what it is that's bothering you." _

"I've just searched his quarters, found the control box he used." It had been disguised as a small radio. "I don't know what to do with it. I would have asked Gwen but she's busy and so is Jack. I don't know whether to hand it over to Major Ramirez or not."

"_He's the UNIT guy?"_

"Yes. He's all right but he's UNIT and I know what Gwen and you think of them." Kevin himself was less anti-UNIT having served with them for some years but even he recognised that they commandeered artefacts and technology for their own use. It happened less often now the Network had been set up, but it still happened.

"_Umm. This control box, is it working? Can you operate it?"_ An idea was forming, put there no doubt by the snake hunt Selwyn had watched for most of the day.

"I think so. What do you have in mind?"

Selwyn walked away from the barbecue area where the ASIO agents were gathered and stood apart looking out over the calm water. He made sure to stay behind the safety line as his thoughts came together into a coherent idea. _"I've been wondering what those creatures will do now. You've removed their controller and their independent intelligence appears to be limited if the ones here are anything to go by. They've just been interested in self-preservation. But what if whatever is coming through the portal can control them direct? And what if there are more, other packs we don't know about."_

"I see what you mean. They could be ordered to attack again."

"_Right. But we could stop them."_ He checked his watch; three hours to go.

"How?"

"_We take them out of the equation. Use the control box you've got to send them orders that will finish them off." _

The two men continued to talk, developing the idea into a concrete plan. When they had ironed out all the kinks, Selwyn called Jack to run it by him.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

The workshop was quiet. Jack had handcuffed Ilie Roman to a chair at a central desk before continuing work on the pyloxit field. Alonso had made a start but there was still a lot to do before it could be taken to the Millennium Stadium and positioned ready for use. Jack got to work, blending various technologies with human hardware to meet his needs. He spared his captive a glance every now and again but Ilie was slumped in the chair, immobile.

Despair was still overwhelming Ilie, forcing his thoughts down into the dark places of his soul. He had failed The Lady, failed his ancestors who had kept the priesthood alive all because of his own weaknesses. He had made it to Lourdes but had been unable to stay in the background for the few hours necessary until The Lady returned. Panic had set in when the gendarme had knocked on his door with the bossy woman proprietor of the _pension_. He should not have killed them, that was clear to him now. Because of his stupidity he had been captured and brought to this place.

Cardiff, that's where he was. The French woman detective had told him this as if it was some kind of punishment. Ilie did not know where Cardiff was, only that the people spoke English with an accent that was new to him. All except for the American. He raised his eyes and glanced at Jack, hunched over a nearby desk working on something. This man was everything he had come to expect from the American oppressors; brutal and boorish. Jack raised his head and looked at Ilie who immediately lowered his gaze. Cardiff. The woman had said something important about Cardiff. He thought hard. Cardiff was going to be invaded and it was his fault, that was what she had said. His despair began to lift. Was it possible that he had been brought to the place he most wanted to be?

His agile brain began making plans, plans he was able to put into action when the American took a phone call and left the room.


	34. Chapter 29

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Twenty Nine

_On the Ark Royal_

"_Two minutes thirty seconds." _

Everyone who could find a legitimate reason for being so was on the bridge. Every station was manned and people hovered in every cranny listening to the automated countdown. The view screen was the main object of interest. Against the bluey-blackness at the edge of the stratosphere was a caterpillar of a ship made of interlocking multi-sided compartments, most in a long line with the rest randomly attached to the sides either individually or up to five deep.

Captain Dwarris compared it unfavourably to his own sleek vessel until he remembered that the caterpillar had travelled from another galaxy while his own dare not venture into space. Shifting uncomfortably, the captain realised his bridge was over-populated. "Mr Thomas, clear the bridge of unnecessary personnel."

Even before the Executive Officer issued an order, many people slunk away, moving down to the lower meeting area where they could watch the feed from the view screen. When the last lingerers had departed, the bridge officers split their time between monitoring their workstations and watching the screen. Few had come this close to a working alien space ship and didn't want to miss a minute. At the science station, Alonso consulted urgently with the science officer in low tones before swinging his chair round to face the captain.

"_One minute fifty seconds." _

"We need more power," he stated baldly across the automated countdown. "We're at 97% and the pulse won't work at that level."

"Mr Akhtar, where can we get it from?" asked Captain Dwarris.

"Propulsion or life support, sir," replied the science officer promptly.

"We may need to manoeuvre our way out of trouble. Use life support."

"Yes, sir."

"_One minute forty seconds."_

Akhtar and Alonso shut down life support and began routing the released power into the neutron pulse. In a ship this big, the general crew would not notice the lower oxygen levels for at least fifteen minutes. Critical operations personnel, including those on the bridge, would be the last to feel the effects due to the built-in safeguards. Alonso watched the power build up infinitely slowly. It was at 98% and climbing.

"_One minute twenty seconds." _

"Attention all hands, this is the Captain," said Dwarris over the ship's intercom. "We are about to engage with the target. Critical personnel to their stations. Secure all hatches." This was standard operating procedure. If the Irakiis were not disabled by the pulse the _Ark Royal_ had to be ready to receive incoming fire or even repel boarders.

"_One minute ten seconds." _

"Mr Frame, do you have full power yet?" The captain was sitting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the alien ship.

"Only 99%," reported Alonso without looking up. "It's still climbing."

"_One minute. 59. 58. 57." _The unemotional countdown continued, now intoning the time to contact in one second intervals. The people on the bridge were quiet, breathing shallowly and braced for action. _"40. 39. 38. 37."_

In her obscure corner, Agent Johnson reacted to the tension by fingering her holstered Glock. She itched to be moving but remained standing impassively watching over her charge, Alonso Frame. He was incongruously young to be the key player in this drama but that was all that set him apart from the rest. It was clear he knew what he was doing and, from what Jack Harkness had told her during their briefing, a ship in or on the edge of space was where the boy belonged. She scanned the bridge once more, noting Lieutenant Seifert was still at Alonso's elbow; she did not consider this UNIT officer a threat. Johnson looked down at the lower level and spotted the UNIT sergeant who had accompanied them from Cardiff and who, at that precise moment, was studying her. Their gazes met and both recognised a threat in the other. Yes, she thought, this one is the real danger. Her fingers settled on the butt of the Glock.

"_34. 33. 32." _

Alonso smiled as the power level flipped over to 100%. He did not say anything immediately, waiting to ensure it stayed at that level. All was ready for the firing of the neutron pulse; he could do no more. His hand reached out and took the last chocolate digestive from the plate on the workstation. He took a large bite and savoured the smoothness of the chocolate and the crunch of the biscuit They were delicious, an Earth delicacy to rank with fish and chips. He swallowed.

"_26. 25. 24. 23."_

"Mr Frame, status?" demanded the captain.

"Power at 100% and holding." He looked over his shoulder and grinned. "Ready when you give the order, sir."

The captain nodded an acknowledgement and sat back in his chair. His stance was relaxed but two fingers of his right hand tapped the armrest constantly. If this went well it could give him the advantage over his rivals for command of the new flagship currently under construction. He wanted that ship, a space-going vessel which utilised NASA space shuttle technology with some alien modifications. But first he had to ensure this encounter was successful.

"_12. 11. 10. 9." _

Everyone on the bridge became very still and all talking ceased. The only sounds were of Alonso chewing the remains of his snack and the captain's tapping fingers.

"_5. 4. 3."_

"Mr Frame, release the pulse on my mark," said Captain Dwarris.

"Aye, sir."

"_1. 0"_

"Mark!"

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

Jack stopped what he was doing when his watch beeped. Midday. The _Ark Royal_ was now in contact with the Irakii miners. Would the pulse work? Would Alonso be able to pull it off? Jack thought he would but there was so much that could go wrong.

Leaning back in his chair, Jack closed his eyes momentarily, remembering a bar in the far reaches of the galaxy. Why had The Doctor set him up with Alonso? To help Jack or the boy? Both perhaps. In the ensuing months, Jack had puzzled over The Doctor's behaviour which was quite outside the norm. To drop in purely to give Jack and Alonso a measure of happiness was not The Doctor's style. What had occurred to make the Time Lord sentimental? Jack hoped he would eventually meet him again to find out and to thank him for Alonso's … companionship. Movement from nearby caused Jack to open his eyes and he glanced over at Ilie Roman, squirming in the chair.

"What?" he asked.

"Need toilet."

Scraping back his chair, Jack rose. Better to take the Romanian to the facilities than have him mess himself. The smell would be distracting. "Come on then."

"Hey, Jack," said Rhys. He entered the workshop backwards, holding open the door with his backside as both hands held mugs. "Made some tea, and there's a curry on the way." Rhys had been busy calling in contractors to fix the gates and moving the abandoned vehicles. With that done, he had remembered his grandmother's saying that anything was better when faced on a full stomach and so had ordered lunch and made drinks.

"Can always rely on you for the home comforts," said Jack with a smile. "Just gotta take this one to pee." He undid the handcuff securing Ilie to the chair.

"Need to go there myself." Putting the mugs down, Rhys fell in with Jack on the other side of Ilie and the three men crossed the room. Ilie silently cursed his bad luck.

In the boardroom, Gwen stood looking out of the window sipping her mug of tea and listening to her mam on the other end of the mobile. She had called to confirm that Daniel was okay and Mary Cooper was giving a minute-by-minute account of the baby's every movement. There was no mistaking the smug tone of Gwen's mother's voice, revelling in having her grandson when on previous occasions it had been Brenda Williams who had dealt with these sudden emergencies. If only she knew, thought Gwen, that the only reason we chose her was because she lived in Swansea. Finally, reassured that Daniel was safe and happy, Gwen ended the call. She wondered if she would see her son again.

Five minutes later, Rhys entered the room and joined her at the window "Everything all right, love? You look miles away." He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around slim body.

"I was thinking of Daniel. Just checked with mam and he's fine but … I wish I could hold him." She leant back into her husband's embrace.

"Won't be long now. Once we see off this Semi-whatsit, we'll go and get him."

She smiled at his confidence. Either he really was sure of success or in denial; she chose to believe the former. "'Cos we will. Mind you, there's no milk in the house." Their extra overnight guests had finished off all they had had in the fridge.

"We'll stop at Tesco, no problem." The ordinary conversation might have continued but a puttering motor scooter appeared at the battered gates. "Oh, there's lunch. I'll go and get it." He kissed her lightly somewhere round her left ear and headed off.

Gwen waited until Rhys appeared outside then turned back. She glanced at the clock – 12.03 – just three hours to go.

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

The charcoally smell of the barbecue hung over the camp. Two of the ASIO agents had been busy grilling steaks, prawns and chicken while others had filled large bowls with ready prepared salads. Now they were all filling plates and reaching for cold cans of beer. Around them, the dark night was filled with the gentle movement of water lapping at the shore and the croaking of frogs. Occasionally a low flying bird would veer close to the lights and throw strange shadows across the well-lit area.

Selwyn Agnew sat at a table trying to eat grilled corn on the cob tidily and failing. Giving up, he tucked in and let the juices dribble down his chin. There was an air of excitement around the camp despite the late hour. All the agents had been briefed by Selwyn and Mark Tang about the plan to deal with the snake-creatures once and for all and were grimly determined to get their revenge. Action would start in a couple of hours so they were eating now before making the final preparations. Sleep could wait.

-ooOoo-

_Falkland Islands_

The morning had turned wet, the rain forced horizontally across the exposed headland. UNIT's large tents flapped and snapped in the wind and everyone stayed inside as much as possible, the few sentries enduring the conditions stoically. Major Ramirez made the crossing to the cruiser offshore, wanting to speak to the traitorous Lieutenant Walker face to face. He also wanted to avoid the few civilians and reporters who had shown up to check out the UNIT presence; his deputy was better at public relations. The rest of the specialists were busy including the exobiologist who was writing the report of her autopsy of the snake-creature and fielding questions from colleagues around the world.

Slightly apart from all this, Kevin Heggerty ate a late breakfast in the small tent he had occupied for two days. He was bent over the control box he had found in Walker's quarters, adjusting the emitters. Jack had given the go-ahead to the plan hatched up with Selwyn to divert the snake-creatures and overrule any orders they may have already been given. Shortly before the portal was due to open in Cardiff, Kevin would send out the new commands. He was looking forward to it.

-ooOoo-

_On the Ark Royal_

The neutron pulse erupted as a blast of light from underneath the _Ark Royal _and arced out towards the Irakii ship, widening as it sped along. Alonso had explained that it would act like a tsunami and that was just what it looked like. In seconds it hit the alien ship and passed on into the solar system where it would dissipate harmlessly. For several seconds nothing happened. Captain Dwarris, leaning forward in his chair, watched for signs that the pulse had done its job and saw none.

"Alien ship powering its weapons," came from the gunnery officer.

"Prepare to receive incoming. Mr Thomas, hard aport." The captain glanced at Alonso, his hopes of a new command fading. "Mr Frame, what went wrong?"

"Nothing," said Alonso. "Give it time to work."

"They're preparing to fire."

"Just one minute, sir. Please." Alonso glanced over his shoulder at the captain then turned back to his station. He focussed the sensors on the front of the Irakii ship and … yes, the clamps were losing their cohesion. "Its starting to break up!"

Over the next five minutes the captain and crew of the Ark Royal watched as the segmented Irakii ship slowly and gracefully came apart before their eyes. Lieutenant Seifert, standing beside Alonso, was reminded of the film _2001: A Space Odyssey_ which had imagined scenes similar to this; only the music was missing. There were sixty five compartments and all but three were floating separately. Nine had obviously been breached – liquid and some bodies floated out of compromised airlocks – and the remaining fifty three were falling end over end clearly out of control.

"Target disabled," reported the Executive Officer for the record. A ragged cheer went up from the bridge officers, echoed by those in the lower level and in other parts of the ship. Alonso was slapped on the back repeatedly.

"Acknowledged," responded the captain. He allowed himself a smile of satisfaction, his career hopes rekindled. "Restore power to life support. Helm, take us forward." The ship had been sheltering in a sensor blind spot caused by solar activity. "Mr Frame, send the message."

"Aye, sir."

Alonso broadcast the message he and Jack had devised. In universal standard, it informed the Irakiis that they had violated Clause 374 of the Shadow Proclamation. Consequently, the humans planned to use the full penalty of the law - lethal force – unless the Irakiis acknowledged the violation and agreed to depart never to return. After a short interval the Irakiis' reply was received accepting they were in the wrong and requesting time to reassemble their ship. The captain and Alonso devised the reply allowing the aliens to retrieve the compartments, especially those in danger of falling to Earth, but stating that reassembly must take place beyond Earth's atmosphere, an exercise that would take several hours if not longer.

"Mr Thomas, I want a sharp watch on that ship. I want to know if it makes any offensive moves against us. Mr Akhtar, make sure none of the compartments fall to Earth, destroy them if you have to."

"Aye, sir," said both officers who went about their tasks, marshalling the crew as necessary.

Alonso vacated the science station and stood in front of the captain. "Right then, my job's done so we'll be on our way. We need to get back to Cardiff." He was anxious to return and help Jack.

"Not so fast, Mr Frame. I'm not sure I trust these Irakiis and there remains the crestinoni to be sorted out. The concentration here has to be dispersed."

"Irakiis are cowards, they'll do what they say. And Mr Akhtar knows all about the crestinoni, you don't need me."

"I think we do. Return to your station, Mr Frame, and initiate the dispersal protocol." The captain met Alonso's angry stare and added, "Don't you want to see this through?" He was aware of the menacing figure of Agent Johnson who had moved to stand just behind Alonso but did not acknowledge her presence.

"I've done all I agreed to do," ground out Alonso. "They need me back in Cardiff."

"You can leave when the protocol's complete. Mr Akhtar, how long?" asked the captain, looking over Alonso's shoulder.

"Twenty minutes, sir."

"Surely Cardiff can wait half an hour," said the captain reasonably. He had learnt long before never to lose his temper.

Glaring at the older man, Alonso said, "I'll stay thirty minutes and then I'm leaving. And now I need to contact Cardiff."

"Go ahead."

Johnson had listened to the exchange with interest and walked with Alonso to the communications station. "Anything you need me to do?" she asked quietly.

"We're leaving in thirty minutes whatever the captain says." He glanced at her. "Make sure you're ready."

She nodded. To get to a ship they would have to go down four decks all crowded with UNIT personnel. Something of a problem if the captain decided to prevent them. But she and Alonso had always been aware this was a possibility and had formulated a rough plan. She would be ready for action as soon as he said the word. Her eyes roamed the crowd looking for the UNIT sergeant. He was nowhere to be seen, a significant absentee.

Finally the connection was made and Alonso heard Jack's voice. _"Harkness." _

"Jack, the pulse worked. The Irakii ship was dismembered."

"_Well done, Al. Are they leaving?" _

"Soon as they've retrieved the loose compartments. I'm staying a little longer to oversee the dispersal of the crestinoni."

"_Okay. How long?" _

"Thirty minutes, no longer. I'll be back with you before the portal opens." Alonso considered it was a positive sign that he had been allowed to make this call and hoped the captain would be true to his word but if not he had warned Jack as promised.

"_Good, we're going to need you. See you then." _

"Yeah, see you." The call ended.

Alonso nodded at Johnson who nodded back; they were ready. He went over to the science station and checked progress. The Irakiis had agreed that the breached compartments should be destroyed and these were being towed to a safe distance and blown up. The other compartments still floated freely but some looked like they were trying to link up with others. Alonso fretted at the delay in returning to Cardiff.


	35. Chapter 30

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Thirty

_Cardiff_

Lunch was an uncomfortable meal. Nerves were strained as each of those present prepared in their own way to deal with the opening of the portal. Gwen was quiet, going over all they had learnt about Semiramis and the preparations they had made to contain her. Beside her at the boardroom table, Rhys chatted about Daniel to anyone who would listen and showed the many photographs he had stored on his mobile phone. Lois encouraged Rhys, finding his constant flow of words a distraction from her worry about Alonso. He had succeeded in thwarting the Irakiis, now he had to get away from UNIT.

On the opposite side of the table Jack ate voraciously, letting Rhys's prattle flow over him. He was not as worried as the others, his long experience and towering self-confidence armouring him against the possibility of failure. Beside him Andy Davidson was quiet but watchful, taking in all that was going on around him. His year as liaison to Torchwood and UNIT had opened his eyes to all the previously mysterious happenings in the city and he recognised this day was to see something just as dangerous. He eyed Ilie Roman who had been placed, handcuffed to a chair, in a far corner with a plastic bowl of food which he had to eat with his fingers. His various cuts and bruises had still not been treated. Andy's police training rebelled against this and he was finding it difficult to ignore the man's glances of fear and reproach.

"I love bathing him," said Rhys. "Just look at that smile. Who could resist him?"

"He's gorgeous," agreed Lois. She smiled briefly at the photograph of the baby sitting in a bubble bath obviously enjoying himself and pushed away her plate of half-eaten food. Her appetite had deserted her.

"I think so." Rhys finally put down his mobile and took another forkful of the curry and rice. "'Cos, I'd like a little girl too."

"More trouble than boys," said Jack unexpectedly. He took a sip of water, looking across the table. "Especially the older they get."

"Are you thinking of having another baby?" asked Lois. She was not sure if Jack wanted to talk about Alice – he didn't look too bothered but it was hard to tell – and wanted to steer the conversation onto less contentious issues.

"Oh yes," said Rhys.

Roused from her thoughts, Gwen raised her eyebrows. "I don't remember agreeing to that. It's all right for you, one lucky swimmer and your bit's done. It's me has all the hassle."

"Tell me about it," said Jack. "Never doing that again." He kept shovelling food into his mouth as the others looked at him in astonishment. Only Gwen had heard his claim to have borne a child before and even she remained sceptical.

Andy started to laugh nervously. "Right. Very funny." Jack looked at him out of the corner of his eye, expression serious and challenging, and the laughter trickled to a stop. "You can't mean it." Jack shrugged and went back to his food without reply.

Seeing her friend's alarmed expression, Gwen said, "Ignore him, Andy. You got UNIT lined up?"

"Yeah. The Brigadier will be here at one and his troops will be ready. How you planning to clear the Stadium?" The policeman seized on the change of subject gratefully; Jack was plain weird.

"Bomb scare. Police get everyone out ASAP and then we go in supposedly to check the place. Lois, you'll make the call at 1.30 precisely then stay here to co-ordinate. Rhys will be here to help."

"Hang on, Gwen," said Rhys. "I should be with you."

"I need you here, love, to run interference for Lois." She placed her hand over his and squeezed. It was important to her that he have a chance to survive; Daniel didn't deserve to lose both parents. "You saw what happened this morning. I can't leave her alone." He did not reply, his expression saying it all. He would stay as she asked but he did not like it. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Jack wiped his chin and sat back. "That was good. I'll start loading up." He had various pieces of equipment and weapons to take to the Millennium Stadium. "Andy, give me a hand." He pushed back his chair.

"Shouldn't we have heard from Alonso by now?" said Lois. It was 12.50 and he had not been in contact with anyone since his call to Jack. "I mean, he might be in trouble."

"Lois," said Jack, leaning forward and smiling broadly, "I wouldn't be at all surprised if he is. But there's no one I trust more that Johnson to get him out of it again."

-ooOoo-

_On the Ark Royal_

The first attack came shortly after Alonso and Agent Johnson left the bridge. The crestinoni had been dispersed and the captain had thanked them and sent them on their way. The crewman escorting them to the flight deck was taken by surprise when a UNIT soldier emerged from the shadows to block the corridor, his machine gun aimed at Alonso. Johnson knocked Alonso sideways and drew her weapon, ducking to avoid the soldier's shot which ended up buried in the hapless crewman. Johnson's Glock was out and she aimed and fired in one fluid movement. A small red circle appeared between the soldier's eyes and he dropped slowly to the deck.

"Get it," she said, indicating the machine gun. Her attention shifted to all the places further assailants could be hidden. When sure it was clear, she said, "Let's go."

Alonso left the side of the dead crewman and took up the machine gun. He had taken the captain's willingness to let them leave to mean they would have no trouble. No such luck, they were going to have to fight their way out and hope not to get involved in standoffs that would delay or even prevent him getting back to Cardiff in time to help Jack and the others. The two went forward cautiously but quickly, hugging the side walls. It would not take long for the bodies to be discovered and the alarm to be raised. They could have returned to the bridge but considered it unlikely they would get any protection there; either the captain was part of UNIT's plan to abduct Alonso or would be stopped from interfering. Besides, it was better to take a chance and get off the ship as soon as possible. Avoiding the lift, they took the stairs down to the next deck where another ambush awaited. Three soldiers blocked the corridor and demanded Alonso go with them. Flinging herself down full length on the deck, Johnson rolled into them and knocked two off their feet. Alonso shot and wounded the other before joining Johnson. They disabled both remaining attackers and locked all three in a service cubicle.

"They mean business," said Alonso. He had two handguns wedged into his waistband as well the machine gun held in both hands across his chest. He grinned suddenly, with the thrill of the moment. His time with Jack had been peppered with unexpected moments of danger and he had come to enjoy them.

"Remember that and don't take chances. We need you to get off this ship." He was the one who could fly one of the small shuttles, their only way off. "No hanging about now, we make a straight run for it."

They proceeded down two more decks, sticking to the stairs and saw off one more attack. Breathing heavily, they stood in a concealed recess and studied the door to the flight deck, guarded by two soldiers. Johnson was reloading her weapons. She was sure the attacks had been organised by the sergeant who had travelled up with them from Cardiff and was concerned that, so far, he had not shown himself. He was a dangerous man and she tried to think like him, to anticipate his next moves. No doubt he was the last line of defence inside the flight deck.

"It's weird there's been no alarm," whispered Alonso. "They must have found some of those men by now."

"They don't want to panic the rest of the crew." She shoved the full magazine into her Glock and cocked it.

"Umm." Alonso grinned mischievously. "I don't think we should let them miss all the fun." Without waiting for a reply, he slammed the butt of a gun into the alarm set on the wall. A loud wailing started throughout the ship. The guards at the door looked around anxiously. While their attention was diverted, Alonso raced forward. "Allons-y!"

Alonso bashed into one of the guards and knocked him to the floor, unwilling to kill when he did not have to. Johnson, only a stride behind him, did the same to the other. They were still grappling with them when the flight deck door opened and people began flowing out on their way to the emergency stations. In the confusion, Johnson slammed the head of the guard against the wall and let him fall unconscious to the deck. With his machine gun in her hand, she looked round for Alonso. He wasn't there. The other guard was lying inert on the deck and some of the crew stood around looking at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity; confirmation that they were not part of the attacks. Before they could decide to stop her, Johnson stood and covered them all with the machine gun.

"Stay back. Alonso!" No reply. "Alonso!" Still nothing. "Where did he go?" she demanded of the crewmen.

"Young lad? Tallish?" asked an older woman. "Went in there." She pointed to the flight deck.

Johnson believed her and went through the door, keeping low in case of an ambush on the other side. She jammed the door lock behind her; she didn't want unexpected visitors. The flight deck was large but felt smaller due to the dozen craft parked there. It was also brightly lit but the overhead lights threw fantastical shadows onto the deck and walls. Johnson stayed low and scuttled left into a patch of shadow all the while scanning the area for signs of Alonso. It was quiet in here, even the wailing alarm was muffled, and appeared unpopulated until two figures stepped out from behind a fixed wing craft. The UNIT sergeant had an arm round Alonso's throat, holding him before him as a shied. A Sig Sauer was pressing into Alonso's temple.

"Throw away the weapons, Agent Johnson." The sergeant's voice was calm. "All of them."

"You won't kill him," she replied. It had become clear from the earlier encounters that the attacks were designed to capture Alonso not injure him. "You want him alive."

"That won't stop me putting a hole in him. Now, weapons."

"Don't do it!" said Alonso, fighting to get free. Knowing they wanted him alive gave him an advantage and he intended to make the most of it. The arm holding him tightened and he felt his airways blocked. Alonso fought for air desperately but held on, telling himself over and over that they wanted him alive. At the last possible moment, the pressure was released slightly and he took shallow restoring breaths.

The machine gun clattered across the deck followed by two handguns. When they had stopped moving Johnson stepped forward, hands raised. "Now what?" she asked when roughly three metres away.

"Now we leave." The sergeant gestured to Alonso and himself. "You? This is the end for you." He raised his gun and aimed at her.

The sergeant's plan was scuppered from an unexpected quarter. Alonso bent forward, tightening the choke hold around his neck. His vision blurred as the air was cut off but the movement took the sergeant off balance which was his intent. As the blackness started to cloud his vision Alonso heard two shots, felt a sudden excruciating pain and then nothing.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

"That's him?" Brigadier Burke-Tarkleton stood in the corridor looking through the glass window at the pathetic figure of Ilie Roman. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Gwen stood beside the Brigadier. Ilie was still in the corner chair, his face bruised and cut and his body hunched over. She knew he was not seriously hurt and was not fooled by his demeanour. "He's killed three people himself and a number of Network personnel around the world have died because of him. Don't waste any sympathy on him."

Rupert Burke-Tarkleton eyed Gwen curiously. This hardness was a new aspect of her personality and perhaps explained why she stood so high within the Network. "Very well."

"Come and meet Jack." She led the way into the workshop after telling Rhys to keep an eye on Ilie. "Jack, this is Brigadier Rupert Burke-Tarkleton. Brigadier, Jack Harkness." They came to a stop near Jack who was bent over peering at a screen.

"One second." Jack made a couple of keystrokes then turned round. "Well, hello."

The broad grin and twinkle in his eye surprised Gwen who had never known Jack to like any UNIT officer. Even more surprising was the blush slowly creeping up the Brigadier's cheeks. She could only think of one reason for this and silently groaned. Was there anyone in Cardiff, no, she amended, the UK that her former boss had not slept with? She hoped it wouldn't complicate matters.

The Brigadier swallowed audibly and felt the heat in his face. "I … I don't believe it."

"What? That I'm still so devilishly handsome?" Jack preened.

"You're Jack Harkness. I never knew." The blush was deepening and he had to clear his throat. For five glorious weeks years ago a mysterious man had entered his life and introduced him to delights he had never imagined. After all these years, and even in the light of Jack's abrupt disappearance, it remained one of the happiest times of his life. In hindsight, Burke-Tarkleton had realised Jack had used him to obtain information on the Bermuda Project but had not felt cheated then or now.

"No need for introductions back then. And look at you, all gold braid and medals." Jack stepped forward. "When I last saw Rupert, he was a baby Lieutenant with none of this stuff." He flicked a hand over the multicoloured medal ribbons, turning the careless movement into a caress.

"It was a long time ago. Twenty five years, near enough." He paused. "You haven't changed." Jack did not reply, continuing to grin at the other man's discomfiture.

"You two can talk over old times later. First we have to stop this Semiramis woman." Gwen folded her arms and looked at both men, forcing them back to important matters. "Brigadier, are your people ready?"

"Yes." He pulled himself together, dragging his gaze away from this reminder of his youth. He dreaded the reaction when it became known he had been one of Jack's conquests. "Three platoons of infantry and a specialist team. Are you sure that's going to be enough?"

Jack was now perched on the edge of the desk, a mischievous smile tweaking the corners of his mouth. "We won't be making a frontal assault. Your troops are there to look tough and fire only if ordered."

"I see."

"Jack's got something up his sleeve to counter her," said Gwen smoothly. She did not look at Jack who merely raised his eyebrows at the assertion; it was news to him. "The less people around the easier it will be to implement."

The Brigadier looked from one to the other obviously unconvinced. "And what is this secret weapon?"

"Yes, Gwen, what is it?" asked Jack.

"Secret. For now." She glared at Jack then turned to the Brigadier. "There are seven entrances and exits to the Stadium. Station four of your men at each to keep the curious out. Put another platoon around the perimeter, including on the river. You have boats?" He nodded. "Good. The rest will be held in reserve in the pitch side tunnel. Your technicians will be in the North Stand."

"I can do all that, but I still want to know what to expect. From all you've sent me and the data we also have, this is a powerful entity we'll be facing. She won't be stopped easily."

"It never is easy, Brigadier. But we'll do it because we have to."

Gwen's confidence was complete and Jack regarded her proudly. He had taken an ordinary police officer and in four years forged this tough, competent woman who was ready and able to face whatever life threw at her and still stand tall. She could deal equally well with manipulative politicians or attacks by the scum of the universe. And yet, through all the ups and downs, she had not lost her basic compassion and humanity. Perhaps that was why, unlike so many who had gone before her, she had maintained a loving relationship with Rhys and become an attentive mother to Daniel. She was pretty remarkable.

The realisation that, yet again, he was putting her in danger gave him a moment's pause. She had ensured her son and now her husband were away from the worst of the action but he, Jack, had done nothing to protect her. He was about to take her to meet one of the most powerful entities he had ever met while having no definite way of dealing with it. The bits and bobs he had cobbled together might drain some of Semiramis's psychic energy, could even be enough to persuade her not to hang around, but it would not stop her altogether. For a moment, Jack considered telling Gwen to stay behind but even as he thought it, he knew there was no point. Her will was as strong as his and she would come regardless of what he said. Besides, he admitted to himself, it wouldn't feel right without her beside him.


	36. Chapter 31

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Thirty One

_On the Ark Royal_

The alarm was abruptly shut off after ringing out for ten minutes. Executive Officer Thomas walked swiftly from deck to deck, reporting back to the captain on the dead and injured he found on his way. Ordering security to take them all to the sick bay and keep a guard over the injured, he kept moving until he reached the flight deck. Technicians were working on opening the door, the mechanism fused from the other side. Thomas questioned the crewmen standing around and then stepped away for some privacy as he made a further report to the captain.

"Sir, Mr Frame and Agent Johnson made it onto the flight deck. Access is blocked at present but we're working on it. Shots were heard from inside. It's clear that the extra detachment of soldiers was brought on board with the intent of waylaying them for some purpose not shared with us."

"_Understood. Mr Seifert denies all knowledge and I'm inclined to believe him. Redouble your efforts to get through that door I'll –" _

His voice was drowned by the roar of engines from the flight deck. Thomas clapped his hands over his ears and instinctively ducked, a habit he had not lost after four years of service. The roar intensified then diminished.

"Unauthorised shuttle launch, sir," reported one of the crew.

Thomas joined her at the window, seeing the craft descend towards Earth rotating below. "I wonder who's on board," he murmured.

"Sorry, sir, didn't catch that."

"Nothing, crewman. You men, get that door open!"

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

It was almost time to depart. Gwen came out of the first aid room where she had changed from the smart trouser suit into jeans, leather jacket and boots. Her hair was tied back and she was ready for business. Almost. Opening the secure room, she found her old Glock. Loaded, she secured it in a waist holster and adjusted it until comfortable. Spare magazines went into her pockets. The big guns had already been removed by Jack.

"You're ready then." Rhys was standing in the centre of the workshop. How many times had he seen her armed and ready for action? Too many. "You be careful. 'Cos if anything happens to you I'll kill you."

She smiled. With the secure room locked once more, she walked into his open arms and hugged him tight. "I love you, Rhys Williams. More than you can ever know."

"Then come back to me." His voice broke. "I need you. Danny needs you."

"And I need you both." She pulled back slightly so she could look into his eyes. "I'll be back, safe and sound, you'll see." Her direct gaze dared him to think or say otherwise although both knew the odds were stacked against her promise coming true.

He said nothing. Instead he kissed her fiercely then hugged her once more, aware of the tears in his eyes. "Go on then, better not keep Jack waiting."

"Yeah. See you soon." She left his arms and walked out of the room, shoulders back and head held high not daring to look back. Her nonchalant attitude hid the internal churning of fear, adrenalin-induced excitement and concern for her family.

Everything was as ready as it could be. The van was loaded with oddments of equipment and weapons, seemingly inadequate to counter the threat they were about to face but it was all they had. The Brigadier had already departed, Andy Davidson riding with him, to take up position ready to enter the stadium once it had been cleared. Lois was set up in the boardroom. She had a live video link to the stadium open on the plasma screen and various laptops and other monitors on the table all for different purposes. Piles of papers and CDs stood by in case of need.

Jack left Ilie Roman handcuffed to the van and met Gwen in Reception. "You've kept your figure." His eyes passed admiringly up and down her body encased in the close-fitting jeans and jacket.

"Had to work bloody hard to get this back." She slapped her flat stomach. "We ready?"

"Yep. Rhys not going to say goodbye?"

"We've already done that." Her husband had stayed in the workshop. "Let's go. Lois, good luck." She smiled at the young woman on whom she had come to rely.

"You too. Both of you."

"Remember, Lois, call at precisely 1.30," reminded Jack.

"I will."

Lois watched them stride to the van. Jack released Ilie before thrusting him into the cab between himself and Gwen. And then, with a toot on the horn, they were gone out of the ruined gates. Lois stayed in Reception until the van disappeared from sight wondering if she would see either of them again. Suddenly the reality of working for Torchwood hit her and she slumped against the desk. This was not the same as being dragged into the encounter with the 456. Now she knew all the people involved in trying to stop Semiramis. Real people with real lives and no special powers or secret weapons. They were willing to face extraordinary danger with just their wits and experience to protect and guide them. To risk everything to protect humanity.

The phone rang and she reached back to answer it. "Lois Habiba."

"_Hi, Lois. It's Kwame. The hospital's released us and the Archbishops want to get back to London. Are their cars in any state for the trip?" _

She had to think hard to recall the morning's events. Rhys had been looking after the vehicles and he had said something about them. What was it? Oh yes. "Two are, the other's badly shot up."

"_That's good enough. Any chance of them being brought here?" _

Lois laughed. The city was about to receive an alien goddess who intended to enslave the world and Kwame expected Torchwood to offer a car service. "No. If you want them, you'll have to come and get them."

There was a moment's pause; Kwame wasn't used to being refused. _"All right. We'll get a couple of cabs and pick them up." _

"Fine." Lois put the phone down, sick of the conversation. She stood and went back into the building proper. It was 1.15 and she had an important call to make in just fifteen minutes. After that she intended to call Selwyn and Kevin, and possibly Hiram in America, to check what was happening with them. If she kept busy, she might be able to ignore her own worries for Alonso who had still not made contact. She was lost in these thoughts when Rhys loomed before her. "Oh!"

"Sorry. They gone?"

"Umm." Rhys looked ten years older. "I'm sure Gwen'll be okay."

"'Cos she will," he barked. "Bloke's coming to fix the gate, I'd better be out there to meet him."

"The archbishops are on their way too. To pick up the two cars that are working. Then they'll be going back to London."

"Why doesn't that surprise me! No one's got the guts to stand up to these aliens except Gwen and Jack." He stomped off through Reception and into the forecourt, an unhappy man.

Lois sighed. Rhys was suffering. Perhaps it would have been kinder if he'd been allowed to go with Gwen, at least then he wouldn't have been left to imagine what was happening. She went into the boardroom. If she was quick, there was time to call her mum and tell her that she loved her.

-ooOoo-

_Somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean_

The shuttle was a UNIT workhorse, one of a fleet used to ferry troops on short hops to hotspots around the world, either from larger personnel carriers or from the _Ark Royal_. In consequence, it was bulky with a tiny flight deck for'ard and two large cabins aft that could accommodate up to thirty soldiers and their gear. The craft flew well when fully loaded but every pilot complained of the appalling handling when not. The pilot of this shuttle, which contained only two people, was no exception and curses filled the flight deck.

"You're repeating yourself. Either find some new swear words or shut up."

"You should try it. It's impossible to fly this thing!"

"You've done all right so far. Have you found the autopilot yet? I need to dress that wound again."

"It can wait."

"Okay. No skin of my nose if you lose the leg." Agent Johnson sat back in the seat and stared out at the blue skies all around her. She would have enjoyed the flight if it hadn't been for Alonso's constant cursing.

"Always fancied a prosthetic." He wrestled with the controls, thumped the panel and cursed some more.

"Not the ones available here."

He groaned. "I forgot. You people are so backward." He finally gave in and activated the autopilot. "Go on then, do your worst."

Johnson swivelled her seat round and got Alonso to do the same. The bullet had entered his left thigh but missed the major arteries. It was still serious enough to require medical attention but until they got back to Earth she was restricted to the contents of the on-board med kit. She removed the soiled bandage and replaced it with a new one, checking the tourniquet at the same time. Another painkiller might calm him down too.

Alonso watched her, his mind going back over their last few minutes on the _Ark Royal_. He had been unconscious for less than five minutes and had come round in response to Johnson slapping his face – hard. She had carried him onto the shuttle and through the pain from his leg and the lingering effects of being half-choked by the UNIT sergeant he had managed to launch the shuttle, taking it far out over the northern Atlantic Ocean. No one had come after them and no shots had been fired but they had maintained radio silence anyway. After treatment and a much-needed painkiller, he had begun his tussle with the controls, losing height and trying to get on course for Cardiff.

"How does that feel?" Johnson asked.

"Better, thanks. We should make contact with Jack, he'll be worried." Alonso turned his chair until he was facing forward once more, favouring his left leg.

"I don't think that's a good idea. We don't want to give away our position unnecessarily." She glanced at him. "Where are we anyway?"

"East of Iceland heading south. We're too high to see land, but we'll be over place called Scotland soon." Alonso's grasp of Earth geography was still poor but improving rapidly.

"Cardiff's not far then. Let's wait to make contact." She hoped coaxing would work better than orders or rational argument; he could be very stubborn. "We'll need to find a landing place."

"I've got the perfect spot." He smiled mischievously.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

The unmarked white transit van was parked illegally in narrow Wood Street, half-on and half-off the pavement, just around the corner from the Millennium Stadium. It was 1.40 and police cars were everywhere, all come in response to Lois's telephoned bomb warning. Some had screeched to a stop near the van but Gwen had pointed to the large red sticker on the windscreen and they had moved on. Perhaps, she thought idly, the old SUV with its flashing lights and yellow Torchwood logo had not been such a ridiculous choice after all.

"That's him seen to," said Jack. He settled behind the steering wheel in a flurry of greatcoat and slammed the door shut. Ilie Roman had been given into the custody of a UNIT lieutenant leaving the Torchwood pair alone for the moment. "Plenty of coppers about."

"Yeah." Another police car approached at speed but saw the sticker and accelerated away. "They're taking it seriously."

"Umm." Jack checked his mobile.

"Anything?" She knew he was worried about Alonso.

"No." He put the mobile away and began drumming his fingers. It had been an hour and half since they had heard from him, more than sufficient time for him to have returned to Cardiff. Jack had held off calling Alonso, the _Ark Royal _or UNIT HQ in case it mucked up whatever Alonso was doing but the wait was starting to get to him.

She reached out and gently stopped his fingers. "He'll be okay. You said so yourself." His hand was surprisingly soft under hers and her heart flipped for a moment; there was no denying she was still attracted to him. She removed her hand.

Jack twisted round to face her. "Gwen, maybe you should sit this one out. You've got a family and –"

"No way, Harkness. This is my show. But thanks all the same."

"Okay."

He held her gaze for several moments and saw she was resolved to carry on. He wasn't sure why he had made the offer except that he did not want her to go the way all the others had gone. All his friends and colleagues, dead before their time. Death would claim her eventually but he wanted her to enjoy a long life first. For her part, Gwen was moved by the offer. Jack had changed far more than she had realised since the loss of Toshiko, Owen, Ianto and Steven. And Alice, she added. His daughter was not dead but it was unlikely they would ever meet again. He was more human, more vulnerable now and she had to swallow down the lump in her throat.

Jack was the first to look away. He turned up the radio, tuned into the police channels, and concentrated on the messages. "Can you make sense of these?"

"They've cleared the offices and are checking the stands. Soon be time for us to take over."

"You sure? Sounds like gobbledegook to me. Or Welsh," he added with a smile.

"It's perfectly clear if you concentrate. I'll give it another few minutes, don't want them thinking we were waiting for it."

Jack nodded and reached for the flyer on the dashboard. Lois had supplied the brochure about the Millennium Stadium which contained a seating plan. Jack studied it closely.

Gwen watched in growing amusement. "You've really never been in there, have you?"

"Nope."

"You helped design it but never went inside? You are unbelievable, Jack."

He shrugged. "They built it the right size, realigned it north/south and put in the roof. I can see all that from the outside."

Her laughter filled the cab.

-ooOoo-

Across the city, Rhys was trying not to worry about Gwen and failing. The security contractors had arrived and he spent more time than needed supervising them as they began to install the new gates. His hovering presence had become so oppressive the foreman requested coffee just to get rid of him. Leaving the kitchen, Rhys carried the tray carefully, stopping in the boardroom to give a mug to Lois.

"Here you are, love. Sorry I was bit short earlier." He placed the mug within reach on the cluttered table.

"Thanks. There's no need to apologise, we're all under pressure."

He noticed the plasma screen. "They're in then." The images were taken from the Stadium's own CCTV and scrolled from one to the next automatically unless overridden manually. An exterior shot showed UNIT personnel carriers and soldiers, an interior view caught the back of Jack and Gwen as they strode through the tunnels to the field. Both had large guns across their bodies and Jack was towing a trolley with equipment on it. Rhys sighed with frustration. "I'll take these to the blokes outside."

"Okay."

No sooner had he left the room than he was back, still holding the tray. "Couple of taxis just arrived. You want to see these archbishops?"

"Suppose I'd better." She didn't have anything else to do at that moment and, like Rhys, was finding the waiting irksome.

They both went out of the building. Rhys went straight to the contractors while Lois strolled over to meet the newcomers who were exiting the taxis. The sound of an aircraft, noticeable once she was outside, grew louder and she looked up. Cardiff Airport was more than ten miles away and aircraft rarely flew over the city and certainly not low enough to be heard. She was therefore surprised to see a flying object – it did not resemble any aeroplane she had ever seen – seemingly coming straight for her. She froze, many thoughts flashing through her mind. Had the portal opened early? Had Jack got the coordinates wrong and sent it here? Suddenly she was grabbed round the waist and propelled backwards towards the building.

A number of things happened at once. The flying object sent out various jets from the thrusters and continued to descend. It was obviously intending to land. The archbishops with their drivers and aides scrambled into the two working vehicles and sped out of the compound closely followed by the taxis. Rhys and the contractors crouched behind the work van. Lois and Kwame Olongo reached the shelter of the doorway. All was noise and confusion as the object landed in a sea of fumes and gases, its nose less than half a metre from the front of the building and with only slightly more clearance at the sides and rear. No one moved. As the air began to clear, a door in the side of the vehicle opened.

Rhys looked up fearfully, wishing he had not watched all those bad 1950s sci-fi movies. What was going to come out? Something with two heads? A heavily armed warrior? A robot? It really could be anything. When the black-clad figure of Agent Johnson appeared he started to laugh.

Lois, huddled in the doorway looked up the vertical front of the black vehicle that blotted out everything else. Movement at a window a couple of metres above caught her attention. A hand was waving and next to it was the grinning face of Alonso Frame. All the tension left her body. She fell back against Kwame and burst out laughing.


	37. Chapter 32

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Thirty Two

_Mandurah, Australia_

The night was very dark but far from silent. All around the camp, in a remote part of the Austin Nature reserve, frogs croaked loudly making a crazy chorus of sound. Insects large and small were drawn to the lights, skittering and buzzing in mini-swarms. Occasionally birds swooped down on silent wings and took their prey before making off. This was all strange to Selwyn Agnew. Brought up in a London suburb the most wildlife he had ever seen were sparrows and robins, hedgehogs and once a glimpse of an urban fox. Australia teemed with life, most of it dangerous, and Selwyn was uncomfortable being outside amongst it.

He was sitting at one of the tables, laptop open in front of him, with Mark Tang. The rest of the agents were stood in a line four metres back from the water. They were armed with machine guns and all of them were itching for revenge. This was their opportunity finally to get even with the snake-creatures who had killed their colleagues.

"We're ready," reported Mark.

Selwyn checked his watch. It was 22.30, half an hour before the portal was due to open in Cardiff. Time to proceed. He looked at the laptop with the quartered screen showing each of the four locations in which cones had been placed. The quarters were arranged geographically. Top right was Yantis, Texas where it was 8.30. Lake Fork shimmered in the early morning sunlight and the sky was blue. In contrast, the top left quarter showed Irkutsk, Siberia at 23.30. Snow was falling onto a frozen Lake Baikal against the blackness of deepest night. At bottom left was the Bay of Harbours in the Falkland Islands where it was 10.30. A fine rain fell and mist hovered over the Atlantic Ocean. The final quarter at bottom left was Mandurah and the nighttime vista of the nature reserve stretching out to the Indian Ocean. These same images were on screens at each of these locations where men and women also stood ready to kill the snake-creatures.

Taking up his mobile, Selwyn said, "Kevin, we're all set. Whenever you're ready." Coordination had fallen to Selwyn but it was his colleague who would initiate action.

-ooOoo-

_All over the world_

"Understood." Kevin Heggerty pressed the send button on the control box. "Order transmitted."

He switched his attention to the laptop. Nothing happened in any of the four locations. Doubt began to set in. Had he misunderstood how the control box worked? Had he sent a duff message? Wait, something was happening in Texas.

There was no warning. One moment the surface of the lake was calm, the next huge black snake-creatures reared up and launched themselves onto the rocky shore. The FBI agents and the local police officers they had brought in to help opened fire and the early morning was filled with the sound of gunshots. Hot shell casings flew from magazines as machine guns emptied. In the centre of the line Hiram Wendover kept his finger on the trigger of his AK47 until the clip emptied then quickly reloaded. The creature in front of him had been sawn in half by the hail of bullets. He hoped it was the one who had killed Lorenzo. Three others were also dead but still they kept coming. How many were there?

Mandurah was hit just moments after Texas. Creatures reared out of the water and kept on coming. Selwyn stood back and watched as four were cut down in the first couple of minutes. Another wave appeared, six this time, which were similarly despatched. The ASIO agents were reloading as fast as they could and the air reeked of hot metal and cordite. Yet more snake-creatures emerged from the water and this time one almost reached the line of agents. Seeing the danger, Selwyn called a warning and snatched up a hand gun. He joined the line, firing at the horrid creatures. Would they never stop coming?

On the shores of Lake Baikal, Sergei Rostov had more than just machine guns. Two flame throwers sent out burning hot oil in graceful arcs onto the first wave of creatures. A small cheer went up as they frizzled and writhed in their death agonies. The second wave of creatures came too fast for the flame throwers to adjust their range and gunfire reverberated over the water. From his vantage point Sergei, who had recoiled with horror at his first sight of the loathsome creatures, encouraged his troops when the third wave appeared and wondered if they had brought enough ammunition. He had not imagined an attack of this ferocity and length. Just how many more were out there?

The UNIT forces standing on the Atlantic shore in the Falkland Islands had their weapons set on single shot mode. Against Kevin's advice, Major Ramirez had insisted on trying to capture at least one of the snake-creatures alive and did not want his men firing indiscriminately. At one end of the line of a dozen soldiers, the exobiologist and her team stood ready with dart guns loaded with full strength tranquilizers and restraining ropes. It was a disaster. Five creatures loomed out of the mist and startled the soldiers who hesitated a moment too long before firing. Two soldiers were taken immediately, disappearing under the water, along with the exobiologist and one of her team. Seeing this Sergeant Mills, who had no official standing with the UNIT troops, ordered automatic fire and opened up with his own SA80. The soldiers didn't need to be told twice. Automatic fire tore apart every creature that dared to show itself.

Kevin stayed a little apart, counting. In six waves twenty five snake-creatures threw themselves onto the beach and were torn apart. Finally there were no more. He ran back to his laptop and saw that the others had survived the attacks more or less intact. Men and women were standing over piles of stinking corpses but well back from the water and keeping a wary eye on it. He reached for his mobile, still connected to Selwyn. "Hello?"

"_Kevin, hi."_ Selwyn was high on adrenalin after the encounter. _"It worked!"_

"We lost some people. You?"

"_No, no we're all fine. How did it happen?" _

Kevin saw Major Ramirez approaching. "I'll tell you later. Got to go."

-ooOoo-

_Mandurah, Australia_

Sobered by this news, Selwyn sat at the laptop and made contact with Hiram and Sergei. Other than a stray minor bullet wound and some singeing everyone had survived unscathed. Telling them to keep a close watch in case any creatures remained, Selwyn was about to call Lois when she called him.

"Lois, I was just going to call you."

"_Check the net for reports from France. Some of the snake creatures came up out of the river at Lourdes." _

"What? I'll do it now. You got any details?" He quickly googled Lourdes and news, waiting impatiently for the page to load.

"_Four snake-creatures appeared from the Gave de Pau near an open-air meeting place. One local taken, others in the vicinity raised the alarm." _

He had the page open now and was scanning the report. "I had no idea there were any there but it makes sense. They must have been waiting for the portal opening. Good job Jack changed the co-ordinates."

"_I've brought it to the attention of the DCRI. Anything else I should do?" _

"Yes. Do a search for anything similar anywhere in the world. Let me know if you find anything."

"_Will do. Everything go all right with you? And Kevin?"_

"No problems here. Kevin had a couple of deaths apparently. Haven't got all the details yet. Sergei and Hiram managed fine. There were lots of the creatures. Nearly thirty at each location." There was silence at the other end of the line. "Lois?"

"_That many? I thought it was just a handful." _

"We all did. Everything all right your end?"

"_Umm. Gwen and Jack are set up in the Stadium. We're just waiting now. Oh, and Alonso's back." _

"That's good news." He paused trying to find the right words. "Look, I know there's not much I can do from here but if there is anything …"

"_I'll let you know. Thanks, Selwyn. Better keep the line clear now." _

"Of course. Good luck."

"_Thanks." _

He closed the mobile and placed it on the table. Around him the ASIO agents were celebrating their success, dragging the dead snake-creatures up the beach and taking photographs of themselves with them like big game hunters of old. Selwyn could not join in. His concerns were back in Cardiff with the rest of the Torchwood team. Even the thought of spiders and snakes didn't bother him any longer.

-ooOoo-

_Cardiff_

The Millennium Stadium was impressive. Built, as the name suggested, to commemorate the beginning of the 21st century, it replaced the old National Stadium commonly known as Cardiff Arms Park opening in summer 1999. It had been a triumph from the start and had hosted many sporting events including rugby union and league world championships, FA cup finals and speedway. With close on 75,000 seats, it had also become a successful concert venue and exhibition centre.

Gwen stood on the grass pitch and looked round at the banks of tiered seating stretching up to the great oval roof. The retractable portion was part-open in accordance with Jack's orders; it would be closed very shortly. She had first come here on New Year's Eve 1999 to the Millennium Eve concert with a gang of friends including Rhys. He had been a regular attender since at various sporting events and was probably green with envy that she was standing on the hallowed pitch. She smiled, closed her eyes and did a twirl, like Julie Andrews at the start of _The Sound of Music_, and hoped he was watching.

Strong arms grasped her waist and she was joined in an impromptu dance by Jack. His pheromones filled her nostrils and she went where he led, waltzing round and round held close in his arms. His cheek was against hers and she felt his warm breath. It smelt of peppermint. Hers, she was pretty sure, still had the odour of the curry they had eaten at lunch and it was this that made her falter and the dance end. They stood facing holding one another's hands.

"UNIT will think we're mad," she said.

"They think that already. You move well."

"So do you." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We ready then?"

"Yep." He released her hands. "The pyloxit field is ready to go and the technicians are working on the psychic block. They should get it working in time. You can bring Roman up now."

She spoke into the comms and made the request. Her mobile rang and she pulled it out checking the display: Rhys. "Hey, sweetheart."

"_Bit of news for you. Alonso's back."_

"Hang on, I'll put you on speaker." She moved closer to Jack. "You'll want to hear this, Jack. Alonso's back. Carry on, Rhys. Is he okay?"

"_Got shot, in the leg. Not too serious, I'm told, but Lois has called in your doc to look him over. If he can get in the building that is." _Rhys chuckled loudly.

"What do you mean?"

"'_Lonso came down in the car park in a great big shuttle, I think that's what he called it. It was fantastic! Not much room left though, only just missed the car." _

"Rhys, did you say you've got a UNIT shuttle?" asked Jack urgently.

"_Yeah. Big black thing, looks like a box. Why?" _

"Because it could be very useful. Very useful indeed. Is Alonso able to talk?"

"_Uh, yeah. Want me to hand you over?" _

"No, I'll call him direct. Thanks." Jack moved away.

Gwen took up the conversation. "Everything else okay?"

"_Lois says to tell you that the operation with the snake-creatures worked. Some of the buggers turned up in Lourdes. She's checking if there were any more anywhere else."_

"Selwyn, Kevin and the others all right?"

"_Seems so."_ He paused. _"I saw your little dance." _

"I was thinking of you. Remember that concert?" She could sense he was not happy she had been dancing with Jack; Rhys still saw him as a rival.

"'_Cos I do. I remember going back to your place after." _

"Enough of that, Rhys Williams!" Ilie Roman was approaching between his two UNIT guards. "I've got to go now, cariad. Love you."

"_Love you too." _

"You, on your knees by here." She pointed to a spot close by and waited until Ilie had complied. His hands were cuffed in front of him and he looked thoroughly miserable. "Thanks," she said to the guards. "Go back and wait by the entrance."

She moved back into position standing just behind Ilie Roman. They were at the north east corner of the Stadium, standing on the pitch about thirty metres from the stands. To their right, she could just see the UNIT technicians in the North Stand, hunkered down behind the first tier of seats. They were working hard. To her left, Burke-Tarkleton and his troops were waiting, hidden in the pitch side tunnel that usually contained sportsmen and women. They would remain hidden until Semiramis had made her entrance and then come forward to surround her, but at a distance. According to Jack the bullets developed to penetrate Sontaran armour (with which they were armed) might hurt her but first they had to take down her psychic defences. Even Torchwood's big guns would not get through them.

Gwen scanned the surroundings one last time then her gaze rested on the large clock on the electronic scoreboard. It was 14.55 and any time now the portal would open and they would face the Goddess of the Wikoo. Gwen released the safety on the gun she held, the one that had blasted apart the Nostrovite on her wedding day.

Jack came up and stood beside her, also behind the kneeling Roman. He handed her a PDA. "This controls the pyloxit field. When I give the word, activate it by pressing this button. The portal will close instantly."

"What will you be doing?" She studied the PDA's display screen but the figures and symbols meant nothing to her.

"This and that." He flipped open his wrist strap, looking less battered since being remounted after the explosion in the Hub. "It's starting."

They both looked up.

Through the rectangular opening they could see the overcast sky, a frequent sight as the city got more than its fair share of rain. Now, however, the grey clouds were moving in a way never seen before. They were rotating, slowly at first but increasing in speed until they formed a whirling mass that grew in circumference until it filled the visible part of the sky. A clear patch appeared in the centre of the vortex but instead of blue sky Gwen saw a night sky, black with tiny pinpricks of light. Within minutes this was replaced by a light, red initially but then taking on orange, violet, purple and pink tones in an kaleidoscope of colour. The patch of light grew larger and dark blue appeared at its edge giving an ominous appearance. All this was happening in silence. Despite looking like a tornado, the air was still. The light display continued for several minutes, the colours flickering in and out with flashes of yellow that had the appearance of lightning.

The huge clap of thunder knocked Gwen to her knees and she dropped the PDA to put her hands over her ears. It was louder than anything she had heard before and her ears rang for seconds afterwards. A hand gripped her elbow and pulled her upright, thrusting the PDA back in her grasp. Jack made sure she was braced and went back to monitoring the display on his wrist strap. The vortex pulsed with more lightning and the colour display coalesced into a solid pink. Wind came out of nowhere and blew down into the bowl of the Stadium, picking up stray pieces of litter and whirling them about. It grew stronger, there was a crack across the sky and brilliant pink light lanced down from the centre of the vortex. Gwen closed her eyes as the brilliance increased only opening them again when she could detect it had faded to bearable levels.

Semiramis stood in the centre of the pitch.

"Now, Gwen," ordered Jack. She activated the pyloxit field.

Jack touched a button on his wrist strap controls and the roof of the Stadium began to close. It normally took twenty minutes to open or close fully but he had tweaked it and the two halves met in a mere two minutes. He noted that Ilie Roman had flung himself down prostrate on the grass but Jack's main attention was on the figure standing before them.

She was roughly three metres tall and humanoid. Dressed in a flowing robe and headdress of deepest crimson, she resembled most a medieval courtly lady; Katherine Hepburn playing Eleanor of Aquitaine in _The Lion in Winter_. But Kate at her best had never exuded the commanding presence of Semiramis. Nor had she been able to emit a pink cloud that surrounded the lone figure to a depth of up to a metre but which did not prevent Jack seeing her nor her seeing him. Her gaze, which had been roaming around her surroundings, settled on the trio and especially upon Jack.

"Patriarch. Approach." The voice was deep and penetrating. Seizing an opportunity he had not even hoped for, Jack stepped forward. If he could get close enough, he might be able to take her down.

"No!" cried Ilie Roman, rising suddenly. He lunged at Jack and buried the knife stolen from the workshop in his heart. Jack crumpled to the ground. "I am the Patriarch!"


	38. Chapter 33

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Thirty Three

Gwen knelt at Jack's side, checking what had brought him down. It had appeared that Ilie Roman had hit him but then she saw the knife embedded in Jack's chest and her heart sank. She was on her own until Jack recovered. Yanking out the knife, she thrust it into the turf and rose.

Ilie Roman stood, handcuffed arms held out in supplication to Semiramis. The Lady, the Holy One was here but she had mistaken the American for him. He, Ilie, was the Patriarch who had kept together her worshippers and maintained, as best he could, the traditions and rituals. He had been the one to take the potion that allowed him to hear her commands and then to carry them out. Surely she knew him? She should have known him. Why didn't she know him? His elation at having killed the American abated somewhat, turning to resentment. She had overlooked him, automatically assumed the taller, more handsome American was the Patriarch. He fought down the bile of her choice and stood taller and straighter, pulling together what dignity he could.

"I, Patriarch Ilie Roman, welcome you, mighty Semiramis. You are home once again. Home amongst your honoured people. We worship you, Holy Lady."

Standing a few metres away, Semiramis fixed him with a disbelieving stare. "You!" she said, her deep voice echoing around the enclosed Stadium. "You … you little, mean dirty creature?" Her scorn was evident to all who heard her. Her scathing laughter was loud and long.

The effect on Ilie was immediate. His expression turned from adulation to shock in a heartbeat and the colour drained from his bruised and cut face. She really did not know him. It was true he was not at his best. The marks of Jack's beating were obvious. His clothes were torn and dirty, the ceremonial robes still in his suitcase back at the office where he had been held. But these scars and marks he bore with pride, signs of his willingness to undergo any punishment in her service. And she was disowning him? His expectations of a place of honour at her side were fading as she continued to pour scorn on him. He would not endure it.

"I am the Patriarch!" he shouted over her laughter. "I brought you here! You will give me my due!"

"YOU MISERABLE WORM, HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS ME IN THIS WAY!"

The words filled the Stadium, louder than the loudest rock band that had ever played there or the mightiest roar from thousands of spectators when Wales won at home. Gwen managed to stay on her feet but her ears were ringing once again. The UNIT troops had come forward and two of them staggered, recovering quickly to resume their places in the circle around Semiramis. Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen noticed Andy Davidson and Brigadier Burke-Tarkleton on the far side of the circle.

"On your knees, Worm." Semiramis had toned down the volume but not the scorn. She glared at Ilie, a strange red light in her eyes.

Anger made Ilie strong and he stayed on his feet, chin held high and looked her in the eye. Then, slowly, a powerful force bore down on him. He fought her all the way, trying everything he knew to resist but it was useless. In a few moments he was kneeling on the ground.

"My lady, please," he pleaded. He was unable to move, his limbs held in an invisible vice.

Having placed him where she wanted him, Semiramis ignored Ilie and looked about her again. She noticed the ring of armed soldiers, the female in black and the dead male. This was not right, her orders had been ignored. She was not in the right place where the Naraids could protect her. And where were the leaders of the humans? They should have attended her homecoming to submit to her rule and make offerings. None were here. Instead there were people with weapons. Puny weapons but weapons just the same. And she sensed these people's warlike intentions. Only the one who had died, killed by the pitiful liar who claimed to be the Patriarch, had touched her mind and showed the correct level of respect. She needed information.

Private Dev Patel was one of the many men and women who managed to get by without being noticed. He had been with UNIT for two years, joining as a dare but eager to escape the drudgery of working all hours in his parents' corner shop in Toxteth and the prospect of an arranged marriage. His life before he joined and his service since were unremarkable. His death was the only significant moment in his entire life. Jolted by a force that lifted him off his feet, he dangled a metre in the air, jerking and twitching. A presence entered his brain, drained it of all his knowledge and then departed leaving him a lifeless hulk. He fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

The death of Private Patel took everyone by surprise. It was over in seconds. Finally reacting, weapons were raised and trained on Semiramis but the man who should have given the order to fire, if there was to be an order, could not have given it if he had wanted to. Brigadier Burke-Tarkleton was walking forward. His legs were stiff and jerked like a toy soldier's as he was forced to approach the alien. He glanced sideways at Gwen, a desperate plea for help in his eyes. She indicated the weapon across her chest. He managed to nod slightly. The special bullets with which he was armed would have the best chance of working if fired at point blank range. It seemed he was going to be the one to test the theory, if he was able to draw his gun.

"Brigadier," purred Semiramis. "You are in charge here. Your man said so. Bring me your leaders, Obama and Putin. Bring them here to submit to my will."

Gwen pondered this. Semiramis had obtained information quickly about current world leaders. She glanced at the dead soldier. How had the alien obtained it from him? There was no other explanation and it was a salutary warning of her power. Jack had warned her that the Wikoo were powerful psychics, that's why he had charged the UNIT technicians with blocking it. What were they doing? She risked a glance into the Stand but could not see them. Had they run away? Somehow she couldn't blame them if they had but she hoped not. She turned her attention back to Semiramis.

His tongue freed, Burke-Tarkleton looked up at Semiramis. Up close she was overpowering. A good metre taller than him, she was leaning forward, scrutinising him with her odd red eyes. The pink cloud that surrounded her ebbed and flowed. Kept outside the cloud, Burke-Tarkleton was still a metre from her, not close enough for a shot. Nevertheless he tried to draw the handgun from the holster at his hip but his arm was too heavy to move.

"Brigadier," she repeated, "I don't like being kept waiting." The air of menace was almost palpable.

He swallowed hard. "I am Brigadier Rupert Burke-Tarkleton of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, part of a Network charged with maintaining the security of this planet. You are not welcome here. You must leave."

She threw back her head and laughed. "You silly man. You humans are the same as I remember, puny bags of water that are powerless to protect themselves. You need me, Brigadier." Her hand extended and a long fingernail raked down the side of his face leaving behind a cut several centimetres deep. The hand clutched his throat and squeezed. "Do as I say. Now!"

"He's not going to do that." Gwen stepped forward, planting herself in front of the woman. "We don't take orders from you. Leave before we make you." Burke-Tarkleton dropped to the ground, gasping for air.

"Conditions have changed here if they allow a female to carry a weapon. Interesting."

"I'm more than bloody interesting, Semiramis. I'm angry. I'm sick of aliens like you coming here trying to take our children or enslave us. Too many friends of mine have died protecting this planet to let you come back. So sod off and leave us alone!" She aimed her big gun and fired.

Standing in the circle of soldiers, armed with a machine gun loaned to him, Andy Davidson's heart was in his mouth as Gwen stood up to the alien. She had some balls. Energy blasted from the huge gun and … killed three men on the other side of the circle. How? Then he realised that Semiramis had diverted the blast around her. That pink cloud was not as light and fluffy as it seemed, it was a force field. Gwen stopped firing. Shots rang out and it took Andy a moment to realise the Brigadier had drawn his pistol and was firing from his place on the ground at Semiramis's feet. Bullets bounced off the pink cloud and did not appear to hurt the alien. For the first time, Andy felt he would die that day.

"Puny humans."

Semiramis raised the Brigadier off his feet with an invisible hand and then slammed him back down with such force he should have been killed. Instead he went into the ground. Legs, hips and torso disappeared into the grass until only his head was visible. His cries proved he was alive but stuck tight in the ground. Seeing this, Gwen backed away but a powerful force lifted her into the air, dislodging the big gun which fell to the ground.

"Nuhgh." Jack jerked awake and sat up looking round wildly as memory returned. Semiramis. Killed by Ilie. What had happened since? He saw the bodies of the soldiers. Ilie kneeling on the ground. Rupert's head peeping out of the pitch like a grotesque football. Gwen suspended in the air.

The UNIT soldiers, told to stay in place by their commanders, boggled at Jack's return to life but did not move. Only Andy stepped forward to help him stand. "You have to help Gwen." He pressed the defabricator gun on him.

"My Patriarch." Semiramis smiled as Jack stood shakily, leaning on Andy. With an idle flick of her powerful mind, she flung Gwen across the Stadium to crash into the concrete barriers at the foot of the South Stand some two hundred metres away where she lay unmoving. "You live."

Jack pushed away from Andy. If he needed any incentive to defeat Semiramis, the senseless death of Gwen was it. Surreptitiously, he opened his wrist strap and tapped in a command. "Yes, I live. I will live forever whereas your life ends here." He fired at her with the defabricator gun. The powerful weapon penetrated the pink cloud. Semiramis stepped back in surprise, looking down at the hole which was already beginning to close as swirls of pinkness flowed around. "Fire into the opening!" bellowed Jack.

Those UNIT soldiers with a clear shot opened fire. The hole stayed open and widened gradually. Jack threw the defabricator gun to one side when it ran out of power and drew his Webley. He loosed off six shots then reloaded. Beside him Andy Davidson, gritted his teeth and fired at the alien. He hated her for what she had done to Gwen and had no regard for his own safety. It seemed that the defenders were winning but then Semiramis retaliated. Powerful mind waves knocked the soldiers, Jack and Andy off their feet. They tumbled over one another like nine pins, scattering over a wide area; only a few managed to keep hold of their weapons.

"YOU HAVE ANGERED SEMIRAMIS. FEEL MY WRATH." Groups of soldiers were lifted into the air and thrust deep into the pitch, the earth closing above their heads.

One of the soldiers was buried close to where Ilie Roman still knelt. He was exultant. The Lady had seen the error of her ways and was killing the unbelievers who stood against her. Jack's resurrection was troubling but he pushed that to the back of his mind. No doubt she would be able to deal with him. She would come into her own and be hailed as the ruler of the world. And there was still a chance that he would be at her side. He just had to play his cards right.

"My Lady, you see now that that man is not the Patriarch." Ilie nodded at Jack who was running forward. "I am your true loyal servant. Release me that I may help you." The force keeping him place disappeared suddenly and Ilie fell forward before righting again and scrabbling up. Gwen's weapon lay on the ground and he snatched it up, bringing it up to point directly at Jack. "Die, you infidel dog."

Jack halted. Ilie could barely hold the big gun steady, hampered by his handcuffs, but at this range he couldn't miss. The Webley lay where Jack had dropped it. He was unarmed. He was going to die again. Ilie pulled the trigger of the gun but nothing happened. He tried again unaware he had also to release the safety lock. Above him, Semiramis roared in frustration. Her telekinetic powers were being drained. Then the air began to sparkle and fizz; the UNIT technicians had activated the psychic block. Jack ignored Ilie and went for the more important target. The block drained power at too high a rate to be sustained for more than a second or two, he had to get to Semiramis while she was vulnerable. He snatched up the knife stuck into the ground like a mini-Excalibur.

Ilie threw the useless gun aside and lunged at Jack. He pulled him off-balance and punched him in the stomach. Jack countered by thrusting the knife into Ilie's shoulder and, when he was off-balance, putting both arms round the little Romanian and lifting him off his feet. He threw him to one side. Semiramis stood raging at the loss of her power as Jack stooped to pick up the defabricator gun and approached her. The pink cloud, powered by mental energy which the UNIT technicians had blocked, had shrunk to thirty centimetres deep. Only this close to her physical body could Semiramis still maintain it. Jack felt the effect as she reconfigured the force field and made it deeper closer to him. He walked into the cloud and gasped with pain as the energy travelled through him. At this range he got his first unobstructed view of the evil, angular face of Semiramis. She snarled at him before lashing out in a cutting motion, making contact at the join of neck and shoulder. He staggered under the force but remained upright. He had to keep her occupied for a few more minutes. He raised the gun but she caught it and pitched it aside.

"Come to me. Join me." The seductive words rang out. Visions of Earth under her rule filled Jack's mind with him at her side lording it over a submissive population. "You will be honoured, immortal man, as is your due. Be my consort, my Nimrod."

"No." He forced out the word, his body twitching with the pain of the low strength force field flowing through him. It was a hundred times worse than returning to life.

"You will be rich and have all you desire. I will show you worlds you cannot imagine."

"I doubt it. I've seen a lot of 'em." He projected images of the worlds he had known, those he had walked on in a long career as Time Agent and con man. Only centimetres apart, she was able to receive the message and Jack felt her surprise. For all her powers, she had not realised he was different to the native inhabitants of Earth.

"Who are you?" She pushed him away, physically and mentally, until he was outside the pink cloud.

Breathing hard, painful tingling at his nerve ends, he smiled broadly. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, your worst nightmare. And I will never be your consort."

The red rage of anger flowed through Ilie Roman once more. Consort? The Lady wanted the American as her consort? Never! The infidel would never be placed in a position above him, Ilie the Patriarch. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he stretched out both hands and found a discarded machine gun. He pushed himself to his feet and opened fire on Jack. The bullets flew and Jack, hit several times, dropped to the ground. Some of the bullets, however, hit an unintentional target. The special bullets tore through the weakened force field and caught Semiramis in the chest and stomach. She staggered. Appalled, Ilie threw down the gun and rushed to her.

"I didn't mean to, Lady. Let me help."

While weakened, Semiramis was far from powerless. "You!" she snarled. "You again. Be gone, you cretin!" She placed her hands around his head and slowly and remorselessly squeezed. His screams drowned the sound of his eyeballs popping out but were cut off before his skull cracked with the sound like a car backfiring. Blood and brain matter flew out. Semiramis dropped the dead body of her most loyal follower without a second thought.

Andy had watched in growing horror as the events unfolded. Jack was down and the UNIT troops, those that had survived, were cowering or had run to the relative safety of the Stands. Gwen was dead. It was up to him. He picked up the defabricator gun and aimed it at Semiramis. She was standing, blue blood leeching from the wounds in her body. She was as weak as she was going to get, he had to destroy her. Her gaze travelled round until it rested on him. He swallowed hard as he felt her power beginning to build again. He tried a number of buttons until one worked. A blast of energy spouted from the muzzle of the gun.

* * *

_Will Andy be successful? Find out next time ..._


	39. Chapter 34

_The penultimate episode ..._

* * *

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Thirty Four

The explosion that followed Andy's shot rocked the Stadium to its foundations and blew a crater in the pitch several metres across. Andy was thrown backwards and rolled over a number of times before coming to rest. He couldn't hear anything, his ears ringing from the blast. Blood poured out of his nose from where it had made contact with the ground. Cautiously he raised his head and surveyed the damage. Everyone had been blown outwards from the blast including Jack and some of the UNIT soldiers. To one side, he saw the severed head of the Brigadier who had not been so lucky. There was no trace of Semiramis who had been at the centre of the explosion. Andy was appalled. Had he caused it all? Would he have to pay for the damage?

Jack hauled himself up. He stood, swaying, the bullet wounds in his hand, left lung and hip mending. Looking up, he saw blue sky through the open roof and then the sun came out and shone down. It was a prettier sight than the carnage that lay all around. One or two UNIT soldiers were moving but others were obviously dead. Like the Brigadier. Jack was sorry he had not been able to save him. He waved at the UNIT technicians cautiously approaching from the North Stand. They could look after their colleagues while Jack looked after his own.

"Up you get, Andy." Jack had to shout this twice before Andy heard him.

"I … I didn't know it would do all this."

"It wasn't just you. It was them too." He pointed across the grass to the bulky UNIT shuttle landing near the South Stand. "It needed both but, I must admit, that was quite a blast."

"Oh." Andy was not sure whether to be pleased or disappointed. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the blood.

The door of the shuttle opened and a familiar figure jumped out. Rhys ignored the smoking crater, Andy and Jack and ran to where his wife lay. He had seen her fly across the Stadium and land hard against the concrete barrier. She lay where she had fallen, a bundle of arms and legs. He knelt beside her. Tears ran down his cheeks as, gently and reverently, Rhys reached out and pushed back the hair that had fallen over her face. She looked so beautiful.

"Oh Gwen," he sobbed. Gathering her up, he held her tight and rocked back and forth, his tears falling into her hair. "Oh Gwen, I can't live without you. What am I going to do?"

Alonso waited for the ramp to descend fully before gingerly walking down. The short metal crutches were awkward but he made it to the grass without falling. He saw Rhys and hesitated, not sure he should intrude on the man's grief. Rhys had been like a man possessed since they had seen Gwen hurled across the Stadium, only Agent Johnson, who had come in the shuttle with them, had stopped him grabbing the controls to force a landing. Aware of Jack and Andy approaching, both men bloody and limping, Alonso waited for them. Behind him, Johnson left the shuttle and came up to join them.

"Good timing, Al," said Jack. He placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to smile.

"I'm sorry about …" He nodded towards the tableau of Rhys and Gwen just metres away.

Johnson looked from one to other. Less affected than them, her mind was on more practical things. "Lois has informed UNIT who are sending in backup including medics. She wants to know if Semiramis has definitely been destroyed."

"Yes, yes she has." Jack forced himself to look away from Rhys and focus on her.

"I'll let Lois know," said Alonso. "Get her to send the doc down."

"Johnson, could you?" Jack gestured to the ruined pitch. "There are some bodies buried there too."

"Of course." Johnson strode off.

Jack did not hear. He walked forward and stood over Rhys who was still sobbing loudly. "Rhys, I'm so sorry."

"Don't! This is your fault! If you hadn't come back she'd still be alive! Get away from me! Get away from her!" Rhys hung onto Gwen even tighter.

Refusing to get angry, Jack crouched down. "I know how you feel, Rhys, I loved her too."

"And me." Andy Davidson was stood on the other side of Rhys, his face wet with tears mingling with the blood from his nose. "Never stood a chance against you."

Alonso stayed a little apart, watching as the three men, united in grief, fell silent. The only sound was Rhys's sobs, muffled now as his face was buried in Gwen's hair. Jack, head bent, listened to Rhys, pleased when he quietened. But there was another sound underneath it. A soft susurration. He tried to pinpoint it and when he realised where it was coming from he leapt into action.

"Let me have her." He pushed Rhys aside roughly, grabbed Gwen and held her in his arms across his knee.

"You bastard!" shouted Rhys. "Give her back!" He lunged for Jack but Andy held onto him. "Leave her alone!"

Ignoring the protests, Jack placed his ear to Gwen's chest then felt for the pulse in her neck. She was alive! Barely. Leaning down, he gently kissed her letting some of his life force flow into her. They both glowed faintly golden.

"Stop it! Stop it, you pervert!" screamed Rhys. He escaped Andy's hold and began beating Jack around the head and shoulders. "Stop it, I tell you!"

Andy hauled Rhys back, the pair of them falling onto their arses. "Wait, you fat fool."

Jack had not felt the blows, concentrating on Gwen. He released her lips and felt for the pulse again; definitely stronger. "She's alive, Rhys, she's alive. Al, we need that doc here now!"

"I'm on it."

Ten minutes later Gwen, intubated and attached to a saline drip, was whisked away in an ambulance to St Helen's Hospital. Rhys rode with her, aware of nothing but that she had survived. The doctor suspected internal bleeding so she was not out of the woods yet, but she had a chance. Stopping only to collect the special weapons and leaving Johnson on clean up, Jack piloted the shuttle and took Andy and Alonso back to the base. To Alonso's delight, it took Jack two attempts to land in the Torchwood car park. When the ramp descended, Lois was waiting for them. She had seen all that had happened and been professional throughout but now emotion overwhelmed her: relief and joy that they had defeated Semiramis, grief turning to joyful but guarded hope for Gwen. She fell into Jack's open arms and wept all the pent up tears.

An hour later, washed and changed into clean clothes, Jack took the shuttle back to UNIT HQ. He would have liked to keep it but it took up too much room in the car park. The HQ was almost deserted, most of the personnel at the Stadium dealing with the clean up. As soon as Andy drove up he jumped into the car and they headed for St Helens.

Back at base Lois, who had volunteered to stay, sent the news around the Network, including to all the politicians and religious leaders who had refused to believe what Torchwood had told them. The cover up story was devised with Kwame Olongo, stranded in Cardiff, and issued to all news media, local and national. The world would only ever know that a Romanian terrorist attack had partially destroyed the Millennium Stadium, killing a number of brave UNIT troops. The news of Ilie Roman's murderous past would be leaked over the next 48 hours. Alonso monitored the clean up, sitting at a PC with his leg propped up.

The hospital reception area was busy. Jack pushed aside everyone in his path, waved his credentials and demanded to know where Gwen had been taken. She was in the surgical suite preparing for an op. The two men took the stairs to the second floor at a run.

On a hard plastic chair in the corridor, Rhys sat with his head in his hands. He looked up when Jack and Andy approached, seeing the concern and … love in their eyes. It hurt. He wanted Gwen to himself. He found it hard enough to share her with Daniel but with these two? No, he amended, not both of them. Andy wasn't a problem, it was Jack that was the threat. There had always been an attraction between him and Gwen but she had sworn that they had never acted on it, that they merely cared for one another as colleagues who had gone through hell and back together. Rhys still found that hard to believe and Jack's actions today had not helped. He had kissed Gwen!

"What's the news?" asked Jack. He stood in front of Rhys who refused to look up.

"There's damage to her insides. Lots of bleeding. They're operating to stop it."

"No broken bones?"

"They didn't say. I can't remember."

"I'll go find out." Jack went off to the nurses' station down the corridor.

Andy sat down gratefully. He was black and blue and ached all over but at least the nosebleed had finally stopped. "That's good news, Rhys, far as it goes. Gwen's a fighter, she'll get through this no problem. Bet you money on it."

"I hope so. I can't live without her, Andy." His voice broke and he wiped at his eyes.

Andy patted him awkwardly on the back. "Where's your little boy?"

"With her mam. Do you think I ought to ring? Tell 'em what's going on?"

"I'd wait. Ring when you've got some good news." They sat for a few moments in silence. "She was bloody brilliant today, never seen anything like it."

"I know, she always is." Rhys glanced over at Jack now talking to a nurse. "No thanks to him."

"He saved her life. Alonso told me that that kissing thing transferred … life force or something from him to her. He gave her some of whatever it is keeps him coming back from the dead so she would survive until the doctor arrived."

"I don't believe it."

"You calling Alonso a liar? Look, I've got no love for Captain Smarmypants but he's really cut up about Gwen. Don't be too hard on him."

Coming back to join them, Jack said, "She's ruptured her spleen. Some broken ribs and right arm, fractured skull but otherwise okay. No damage to the brain, far as they can tell. They're doing a splenectomy now. Shouldn't be long." He sat down on the other side of Rhys.

"What does a spleen do?" asked Andy. His knowledge of anatomy stopped after the naughty bits.

"Helps fights off infection. She can do without it if they have to remove it."

"Right."

Two and half hours later, the surgeon emerged to find the three men and Lois, who had popped in for an update, waiting anxiously. "We've stopped the bleeding and she's out of danger. There was limited damage to the spleen so it was only a partial resection. No damage to her other organs. She'll need rest and a course of antibiotics but I see no reason why she won't make a full recovery."

"Can I see her?" Rhys was on his feet.

"You're her husband, right? She's in recovery at the moment. You can see her when she's moved to a ward."

"He needs to be with her. I'm sure you can bend the rules." Jack spoke with authority and showed his Torchwood credentials once more. The surgeon relented.

"All right. This way."

Rhys nodded at Jack, in unspoken thanks. "Her folks ought to know ..."

"I'll call them. I'm sure Lois has the number. Go and be with Gwen."

He left them, following the surgeon through the double doors into the recovery suite. The others walked off slowly, relieved their friend was on the road to recovery. Outside the hospital, in the dark October night, they separated. Andy went to check in with his boss and UNIT contacts. Jack hitched a lift with Lois. They detoured to the flat in Penarth to pick up the Espace – Jack hated being without his own transport – and then travelled in convoy to the Torchwood base. There was a lot still to be done before they could call it a day.

Over the next few hours Jack's respect for Lois grew. She was calm, efficient and dealt with everything he delegated to her without complaint. In the absence of both Gwen and Selwyn the leadership of Torchwood fell to Jack and he took up the reins as if he had never been gone. His first task was to speak to Selwyn, Kevin, Hiram and Sergei. All had heard the news of Semiramis's defeat but had questions which he tried to answer. The signals had stopped and he asked them all to pack up the cones and alien power packs for shipment to the UK. The local Network representatives agreed to clear up in their areas, including burning the bodies of the dead snake-creatures leaving Selwyn and Kevin free to return as soon as possible. Lois arranged flights for them and freight space for the cones they would bring back with them.

Kwame was given the job of liaising with the authorities about the remaining snake-creatures, found at Knock and Abeche as well as at Lourdes. For now, a guard was placed around the rivers. As soon as Kevin and the control box were back in the UK, there would be a final snake hunt when they would be destroyed. It took all Kwame's powers of persuasion to get the French especially to wait but they all finally agreed. With that done, Kwame was sent on his way; Jack did not want an official from Downing Street in his base. Lois took him to the station on her way home, she was exhausted after a long and stressful day.

Jack left the office then too, driving Alonso to the Penarth apartment and listening to the young man's account of his time on the _Ark Royal_. "You did a great job, Al. I'm proud of you."

"You know, I kinda like this."

"What?" Jack parked and looked at him.

"Saving the world. Did it twice today and it feels real good." He smiled then yawned hugely. "Sorry."

"Must be tiring, being such a hero," said Jack dryly. "Come on. I'll get you settled then I have to go back to work."

"Must you?" Alonso was getting out the car, reaching for the crutches Jack held out. "I was looking forward to a little more … action."

"You're too tired and you've got a bad leg. Let's wait." He leant forward and kissed Alonso on the lips. It was supposed to be a chaste kiss but Alonso turned into a long and penetrating one. "Or maybe not."

Two hours later, Jack left a sleeping and content Alonso and went back to work. He swung by the Millennium Stadium and checked on progress there. Everything was under control and he sent Agent Johnson home with his thanks for a job well done. At the Torchwood base, he used Gwen's office to sort through the many emails that demanded immediate attention.

Most parts of the Network had been in touch with questions which he ignored; they just wanted to feel part of the action. He circulated the list of all Ilie Roman's contacts instead with instructions to locate and detain them. That should keep them busy and off his back. The French and Romanian authorities were angry at losing the chance to prosecute Ilie for his murders but as he was dead there was nothing they could do about it. UNIT were anxious for details of the operation but Jack ignored them too. He was furious about what they had tried to do to Alonso and spent a productive half hour locating a certain UNIT sergeant. The MOD were still up in arms about what had happened in the Falklands. As Jack couldn't do anything about this until he had spoken to Kevin in person, he merely confirmed that the UNIT team would be leaving as soon as clean up was complete. They would have to wait for anything more. He ignored the FCO's complaints about Torchwood's illegal detention of French and Russian nationals and denying them access to their embassies. A night in the cells would do them no harm and, besides, he had a use for the Russian detainees.

Pausing to get a bottle of water, Jack found the ladder that led to the roof and climbed up to stand on the parapet looking out over the dark car park. The view was of offices and roads with a glimpse of the city centre lights in the distance. It was long past midnight and most of the citizens of Cardiff were in their beds, blissfully unaware that once again their city had weathered an alien attack. One day soon they would have to know about all these dangers but for now it was better they didn't, they needed more time to adjust to the threat from out there. He looked up into the night sky. Light pollution blocked out most of the view but he picked out the North Star and one or two constellations.

After half an hour, he returned to the office. A new email had arrived, from Downing Street. Curious, he read it straightaway, his grin becoming wider and wider. It was from Denise Riley, a congratulatory note which ended with a wish that they continue to work closely together. He laughed out loud at that. She must really be scared he was back. Saving the email, he was whistling as he continued to work.

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_The story concludes in the next chapter ..._


	40. Chapter 35

_Here we go, the final chapter. And posted on the same day we UK fans will see Miracle Day epsiode one. How's that for timing! _

* * *

**Torchwood Goes Forth**

Chapter Thirty Five

Lois arrived at work the next day to find Jack there already. He had commandeered Gwen's office and seemed at home when she put her head round the door. "Morning. Anything special you want me to do?"

"Hey, Lois. Cup of tea would be great. And any chance of breakfast?" He smiled at her, tipping his chair back.

"I'll see what we've got in the fridge. I called the hospital. Didn't get much out of them but they said Gwen was doing okay."

"Good." He did not tell her that he had gone there at four that morning to see for himself. Gwen was recovering well but was under heavy sedation. He had sat with her, holding her hand for a while, then left to find that UNIT sergeant.

"I've arranged for some flowers. Hope that's all right."

"Flowers? Thought it was grapes for people in hospital."

"No, flowers too." She wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "I'll get on with that breakfast."

"When you've done that, find out where the UNIT top honcho is today. I want a word with him." His expression was grim.

-ooOoo-

In his fifteen years' service in the UK Army and twelve in UNIT's Far East Division, General Michael Smythe had been in many conflicts. Dealing with warlords and civilians, human and alien, he had developed exceptional communication skills. These had been further honed when meeting politicians during the past three months as UNIT's Chief of Staff. But nothing had prepared him for Jack Harkness.

On this Tuesday morning he was trying to make sense of events in Cardiff, difficult when all attempts to get information from Torchwood had been ignored. The door to his office opened suddenly. Smythe was annoyed; he had given orders not to be disturbed. An RAF captain he had never seen before proceeded to lock the door behind him. "Who are you? Get out of here!" The General rose, pressing the discreet panic button as he did so.

Jack stood, back pressed against the door and stared at him. He saw a large, bluff overweight man behind an over-large antique desk. Was he compensating for something? Probably. The rest of the room was as opulently furnished: large, deep couches before a huge fireplace; polished mahogany meeting table and chairs; matching bookcases; crystal decanters of whisky and sherry; heavy silver ornaments and exquisite porcelain. This General did himself proud.

"I said get out!" barked Smythe.

"Not until I've had my say. Sit down, General."

"I will not. How dare you come into my office and start –"

"I said, sit down!" Jack was now leaning across the desk, nose to nose with Smythe and far from backing off. Parade ground bullying didn't frighten him. "You want to know who I am? I am Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood and I am in a bad mood."

The General sat abruptly. Realising how this looked, he rallied as best he could. "About time too. Very unprofessional conduct not to give us a report on the Semiramis encounter."

Jack slammed a slim brown file on the desk. "There's your report! And you'll see it ends with commendations for a number of UNIT personnel who died to keep Semiramis from taking over the world. But I'm not here about them. I want to talk about Sergeant Ulysses Montgomery and the little task you gave him."

"I … don't know what you're talking about."

Jack leant even further forward, his steely gaze never wavering. "I have him."

"What?" The bluster faded for an instant. If Montgomery had talked, had told Harkness all he knew … No, thought Smythe, it's still his word against mine and who would believe a sergeant. "If you've abducted a UNIT NCO, you'd better hand him back."

"Sergeant Montgomery is a canny man. He took out insurance." Jack produced a Dictaphone and pressed play.

"… _capture Alonso Frame. I want him alive, Montgomery. We have to learn what he is or how will we be able to defend against more of his kind. They could be among us even now …" _

"That's you, General. You really should have got an underling to do your dirty work."

The game was up and Smythe knew it. He had been a fool to order the abduction but when Colonel Freeman had told him about the alien in Torchwood and that he was going aboard a UNIT vessel it had seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. "What do you want?"

"Order your minions to back off, delete all records about Alonso and give me the paper files. I want it all, and I mean everything. If I find you've kept even a Post-it note, I'll be back. And I won't be so polite next time."

"That's all?" It seemed too little given the damage that tape could do to his reputation.

"For now. Just remember, I have Montgomery. He won't be rejoining his regiment, for obvious reasons. But I know where he is and can produce him like that," he snapped his fingers, "if you take one step out of line. Now get busy."

"It'll take time to get it all together."

"I can wait. I can wait a very, very long time." He went to the side table and poured a whisky before taking a seat on one of the couches where he could watch Smythe squirm.

-ooOoo-

It took two days for Selwyn and Kevin to get back to the UK.

Selwyn was the first to start his journey. At midnight on Monday, Mark Tang drove him from the nature reserve into Mandurah and the hotel where he had only spent one night. Picking up his remaining belongings, they drove on to Perth Airport where they booked in the securely packaged cone and said their goodbyes. Selwyn had come to respect Mark and they parted with promises to meet again. The flight left at 05.45 for Sydney and his connection to Los Angeles. He had chosen to fly back via the USA ostensibly to collect the Yantis cone but actually he wanted to regain the day he had lost on the way out. He arrived in Washington DC at 21.02 local time on Monday, delighted to arrive before he had set off but exhausted. He spent the night with Hiram Wendover and attended the funeral of Lorenzo Correlli before flying out, with two cones in the baggage hold, at 18.04 that night.

Kevin's trip was a lot less complicated. He spent Monday afternoon helping with the clean up at the Bay of Harbours and saw Major Ramirez and his team off the Islands back to Argentina. He was glad to see the back of them; working with Ramirez had shown him the worst of UNIT. To Kevin's dismay, he was invited to dinner with the Governor that night. Unable to refuse without causing offence, he dressed as tidily as he could and presented himself at Government House at the appointed hour. He needn't have worried. The meal was an informal family affair with the Governor, his wife and teenage sons. Later, back at barracks, he shared a drink or two with Sergeant Mills and Corporal Riley before finally getting to bed in the early hours. He had a hangover when he left the Falklands at 10.00 on Tuesday on a special flight laid on at Lois's request by MOD. Travelling with him was the cone, the control box for the snake-creatures and the bodies of four dead soldiers including Private Terry Stokes. With a two hour layover on the Ascension Islands for refuelling, the plane landed at RAF Brize Norton at 04.00 on Wednesday morning.

Kevin was surprised but pleased to be met by Jack. They headed into London and were at Heathrow in time to meet Selwyn who landed at 06.20. They stopped for breakfast at the airport, bringing each other up to date on all that happened in the past week and continued to talk all the way back to Cardiff. Jack dropped them at their homes; they would come into the base later in the day after some sleep. He went onto the base and secured the three cones. The one from Russia arrived by UPS that Wednesday afternoon: Jack had finally persuaded the FSB to release it by refusing to return their agents until the cone was in his possession.

The last member of the team did not reappear in the offices until the following Monday morning, a week after Semiramis had been defeated. Gwen had been released from hospital the previous Friday but had gone straight home to spend time with her husband and son. She had been in touch with Jack and her team, who had all visited her in hospital, but as Jack had ordered everyone to take the weekend off and had headed off himself with Alonso there had been no point going to the base any earlier. The car park still bore the signs of the attack by the Russians as well as burn marks from the shuttle's thrusters but the gates had been repaired. She smiled when she saw the Espace in her designated space – typical Jack. Parking elsewhere, she walked slowly into the building. No one was about so she went through Reception and looked into the offices. Jackets hung on the backs of chairs and desks were piled with papers but only one was occupied; her own.

Sitting with the chair tilted back and his feet on the desk, Jack sat at an angle while talking on the phone. He smiled when he saw her. "I'll call you back." He swung his feet down. "Gwen."

"Jack." She looked around. Her neat office had changed: the PC moved off the desk onto a side table; the photograph of Rhys and Daniel put on the windowsill; additional trays on the desk, all of them full; a huge blueprint tacked to one wall; the meeting table covered with bits of equipment and pushed back against the wall. "Made yourself at home, I see."

"You know me." He stood and came round the table. "How are you?"

"Fine." Pause. "Well, bit sore and I don't have a lot of energy but I'm better every day."

He drew out a chair, moved the snake-creatures' control box, and held it out for her. "Take a pew."

She chuckled and sat gratefully. Even the short walk from the car had tired her and her broken arm ached. "Nice religious reference there, Jack. I've been reading the newspapers. All the church leaders are backing off from the Mary sightings. Never seen such a sudden change of heart."

He shrugged and perched on the desk. "There won't be any more sightings. Interest will die away eventually and all the pilgrims will go home. Had an interesting chat with Archbishop Williams. He came back, looked at the tapes and apologised for not believing you. Wants to make amends."

"How?"

"He wants to officiate at Daniel's baptism."

She narrowed her eyes. "And how did he know about Daniel?"

"Church grapevine?"

"You told him more like." She sucked in a breath. "My son christened by the Archbishop of Canterbury. That would put Brenda's nose out of joint." They laughed, her mother-in-law was a running joke.

"You going to do it?"

"I might. Have to talk it over with Rhys. He wants to see you, by the way."

"Oh yeah?" Jack was wary.

"Wants to apologise. We watched the tape of what happened together and I put him straight on a few things." It had been troubling to watch the events through the CCTV images but she was pleased she had done it. Seeing herself flying through the air had been an eye-opener; she had not realised she went so far. She had only survived through training in how to land and a lot of luck. And Jack, of course. She had immediately known what he was doing when he kissed her and had berated Rhys for not understanding.

"Where is he? Is he lurking out there?" Jack looked towards the door and the corridor beyond.

"No. I sent him back to work, got to pay the mortgage."

"And Daniel?"

"With the child minder. We all need to get back to normal, into our routine. So I'll be needing my office back. Not yet, but soon." A check up with the consultant that morning had confirmed she was healing well, but he had advised rest for at least another fortnight. She wouldn't wait that long; coming back for a few hours each day would get her fit again faster.

"It's yours whenever you want it. You can deal with all these reports. Paperwork was never my favourite part of the job." He smiled easily and pulled out another chair, moved it so he was facing her and sat down.

"About that." She sat forward, wincing slightly. "Are you staying?"

He looked out of the window, thinking, then turned back. "Took Alonso to Snowdon at the weekend."

"Hope you didn't make him climb up, not with his bad leg." She was not sure where this was going. Jack was always unpredictable and just because he had stuck around this long did not mean he wanted to stay longer.

"No. We stayed in a fancy hotel and talked."

"Just talked? Don't believe that."

He smiled. "Okay, there was a lot of sex too but mainly we talked. We decided we wanted to hang around. Al liked helping out." Like Jack, Alonso's chance meeting with The Doctor had left him with a desire to help others and right wrongs. "Reckons you need him seeing as it was him saw off the Irakiis and Semiramis. Got a big opinion of himself, has Alonso."

She laughed. "Takes after you! But it's great you're staying, both of you. If the last couple of weeks have taught me anything it's that I need you." She noticed that Jack looked shifty. "What is it? You don't want to work for me?"

"I told him about Ianto. And Alice. And Steven. Everything. I had to if we were going to stay. He took it well."

"We all know you have a past, Jack. And that it's full of people you cared about, people you loved. That's what makes you the man you are."

"Maybe. We went to Ianto's grave last night, I wanted Alonso to see it." Jack smiled. "He stood guard while I buried the diary, gave it back to Ianto. No one else should read it."

"I hope you didn't get caught. Alonso's not in gaol, is he?"

Jack shook his head. "He's in the workshop with the others. They're taking one of the cones apart." He met Gwen's anxious gaze. "And to answer your question, yes, we'd like to join you. Mind you, I don't know for how long."

"Welcome aboard."

"Jack, Alonso says that – Gwen! How good to see you." Selwyn stood in the doorway, beaming at her. The Australian sunshine had turned his fair hair a shade or two lighter and he had a pleasing tan. He was as urbane as ever and had a renewed confidence after proving himself in the field.

"What's Alonso done?" she asked, standing. The interruption had come at an opportune moment. She and Jack had said what they needed to say and they would have plenty of time over the coming days to decide how to fit him into the team. Alonso's technical expertise and knowledge made him an easy fit, but Jack might find it a bit more difficult. However, she didn't doubt that they would do it.

"He's found something he wants Jack to look at. Come and meet everyone. Are you back or just visiting?"

They went off, chatting nineteen to the dozen, his supporting hand under her elbow. Jack followed them. In the workshop cries of delight greeted Gwen's appearance. Andy Davidson was there as well as the Torchwood team - which now included Alonso - all crowded round a workstation which had been cleared for the dismantling of the Russian cone. After a heartfelt greeting, Lois went off to get drinks for everyone.

Gwen took the chair Kevin offered her. Events had brought the technician out of his shell. He and Jack had overseen the destruction of the remaining snake-creatures and rearranged the workshop and his duties. Kevin was getting on well with Alonso, introducing him to the delights of online war gaming.

"Andy, you playing hooky?" Gwen asked.

"Can't get rid of him," said Jack indulgently. "He's always hanging around."

"Only hoping you'll let me use that big gun again." Andy grinned and seemed very much part of the extended Torchwood family.

"No way! Look what you did with it," protested Gwen laughing.

Authorities at the Millennium Stadium were appalled at the state of their facility until Jack had bluntly pointed out that the 'terrorists' could have destroyed it completely. They were now working feverishly, backed by Welsh Assembly finance, to repair the pitch and resume the scheduled events.

"That was him." Andy pointed at Alonso who grinned back. They began to wrangle, placing the blame on one another, the others joining in.

Gwen and Jack looked on. Their eyes met and they exchanged a wordless message; it would be a good team. Each member had their own talents and experience and together would make a stronger whole. The future looked promising. Lois chose that moment to return, carrying a heavy tray with glasses and a bottle of champagne. It was time to celebrate, before another crisis came their way.

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_And so it's over. Many thanks to all of you who have stayed with me and posted reviews, put the story on alert or made it a favourite. I appreciate your support. Off now to prepare for Miracle Day :D - Jay_


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